leveraged_buyout | First Sight

First Sight

Lucien Moreau wasn't in town often, and that was the way Damien liked it. The less he saw the man who sired him the better, and even when the household was full of his spies who undoubtedly reported every little detail back to the old geezer, at least Damien didn't have to see him.

But if old Moreau arrived back on an early flight and summoned for his presence, as much as Damien didn't want to, he obeyed those summons. It didn't matter that he was still abed when the butler delivered them 15 minutes ago, his father demanded to see him and Damien obeyed.

It was only down the hall and into Moreau senior's private studies, but it still felt like it was going into another world. Damien's loafers clicked loudly on the tiles as he walked down the long hall of the west wing, the original section of the mansion that he normally avoided altogether. This was the old man's wing, a part of the ancient mansion that was inherited down generations, unlike the newer east and south wings which were added only shortly before Damien was born.

Dressed up presentably in a three piece suit, hair quickly slicked back to battle the his bedhead, Damien knocked on the large study doors and waited to be admitted. He covered his yawn with a fist as he waited, mind still blanked by the early morning to ponder the reason for the meeting.

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Eliot's already in 'uniform' for this first meeting with his soon to be protectee and nominal boss, and even though Daddy cuts the checks he figures the man he's working for is the man he's gonna be running household protection for, trailing round after pretty much twenty-four/seven, and taking most of his day to day orders from. Which might mean this is a pretty short-term gig, but he's willing to take his chances for a job that reads like it was custom-tailored to his personal skill set.

So at the knock he straightens his jacket--and damn, the suit and the haircut and the god damn loafers came close to being a deal-breaker, but he'll cope--and turns to face the door, even as Moreau Sr. puts down the house schematics Eliot had sketched his security requirements out on and calls a clearly irritable, "Come!" in its general direction.

The large double doors pushed opened and Damien stepped in, his tired glance swinging around the room once before settling on the man behind the large mahogany desk. The short young man standing before it brought a flash of curiosity, dressed up to look like a bad sales rep but eyes hardened like one of the many sharks they hired to swim around their house.

In other words, another loaded weapon bought to sit around their mansion. Once identified, Damien dismissed him out of his mind.

"Junior, I want you to meet Spencer here." That brought back a bit of inquisitiveness to the hired hand. He couldn't be the average guard if he warranted an introduction.

Prompted, Damien gave Spencer a glance over, took in the new hair cut, clothing that looked like they were taken off a rack and forced, with questionable willingness, onto a body that it didn't fit. Damien's glance flipped back to his father. "New gun?"

"New head of security. He'll take over Moore's position." Their old security head who 'retired' a week ago, the details of which Damien didn't know and didn't want to know, but he could bet the man wasn't sitting and relaxing somewhere with a golden nest egg.

At the announcement, Damien gave Spencer a more critical look. A short little man, unimpressive and possibly younger than even Damien himself. It was impossible to believe he would be competent in his job. "Him? Should I expect a hit soon as part of your scheme to have me removed?"

Eliot scowls at the kid--and he's definitely a kid, even if he's probably a year or two older than Eliot himself--and his sharp eyes take in the signs of having rushed to dress and make himself presentable for this, the disparaging look his introduction gets. Spoiled, sheltered, but also isolated and stifled, is his assessment, based not just on this meeting, but on how Moreau Sr outlined his duties, on the independent research he'd done before even taking the interview.

He gives the kid a cool look, barely bristling at the insult, and answers flatly before his employer can. "I'm not in the habit of picking up suicide gigs, and if you're dead then so am I." It's flat, matter of fact. He doesn't appreciate having his competence or professionalism questioned.

It was Damien's turn to stiffen, both at the atrocity of the hired gun daring to reply and the rudeness of his answer. Damien was surprised his father allowed for it, most likely only because the rudeness was directed at Damien.

"I wasn't speaking to you," Damien snapped coolly, not even sparing the younger man a glance. Eyes still fixed on the old man, Damien showed he was still demanding for a satisfactory answer that he clearly didn't get from Spencer.

Of course, he didn't get one. "I don't have to explain my decisions to you."

"Which means I should be expecting one. Very well." The old man's fist suddenly slammed hard on the desk and Damien started. He recovered quickly, straightening to compensate and folded his hands behind his back. "If there's nothing else I'll be on my way."

Damien tried to turn to go, beat a retreat without looking like it, but halted at the "Stand right there!" behind him. He did, shoulders tense, while his father instructed, "Show Spencer around. I am leaving for Iceland this afternoon."

Damien hoped his plane would crash. "....Yes, father."

He's already used to being disdained by rich men in expensive suits who write off his skills because of his age, or just write him off entirely because he's a white trash nobody. He doesn't let it get to him, or at least doesn't let it show when it does.

Hiding his reactions unless they're useful is a skill Moreau the Younger clearly needs some work on, based on the way he starts at the slam of his old man's fist on the pricey wood of his desk. On the way he squares his shoulders and stands at forced ease, to try and compensate for the slip. He wonders if the kid thinks he's actually accomplishing anything by flinging his hatred in his old man's face, or if he's just so angry and frustrated he doesn't care... until he does, and Eliot notes the forced dutifulness, resigns himself to getting the cold shoulder from his new assignment, and turns to his employer to take his leave.

"Thank you for your time, sir. Once I've got the lay of the place and the rest of the staff, I'll be starting on those upgrades and changes I outlined for you." He nods to the schematics abandoned on the desk before turning his attention back to Moreau the Younger and inclining his head slightly. It's not respect, or disrespect, it's just acknowledgment and waiting.

Damien huffed privately at the words Spencer was saying, it sounded like he was trying to impress his father with changes and improvements, probably airy plans that had no real consequence. He didn't know if his old man bought it or was just humoring the kid as part of the scheme Damien was convinced he was part of. There was no other reason a short, white trash kid became the head of his security. It was a joke.

And finally he got the dismissal so he left without even a backward glance to see if Spencer followed. The other will if he knew what way good for him.

Soon he heard the quiet echo of a second pair of loafers to his footsteps, softer than his own on. Spencer's steps were lighter, he noticed, barely audible despite the loud resonance of the tiles in a way Damien never managed. He pushed it out of his mind, wishing just too get away from the west wing as quickly as possible. He relaxed slightly once they got away.

"You should quit now," Damien said when they were back in the main building. The security office was on the main floor near the back, which was where Damien was headed. "I don't care how good you think you are, I'm not interested in getting killed along with you."

Damien will find out soon enough exactly how much consequence Eliot's plans have, but right now his focus is on his new charge as he follows him out into the hall, almost silent even in his stiff new shoes.

"Not much of a quitter," he points out mildly, unbuttoning his jacket and shifting it so he can tuck his hands into his pockets as he walks now that he's out of Moreau Sr's presence. "And if you think you're likely to end up dead with me running your detail, how much more likely d'you think that'd be with no one doing it?" he points out, raising one eyebrow and giving the kid a flat look, and if Damien's paying attention it'll be clear by now that Eliot's not actually following him, he knows exactly where he's going--he's memorized the entire floorplan and all the security features--and is actually glancing aside intermittently, his attention more on marking the location of every camera and sensor as they pass than it is on Damien himself.

"Look, you don't have t'believe I know my job, but you do have t'suck it up and let me do it, like it or not, 'cause I ain't going anywhere."

Edited 2017-01-22 08:37 (UTC)

Damien might've noticed if he was looking at Spencer, but he wasn't, didn't even give the man behind him a backward glance. He walked and if the other followed, great, if not, it wasn't his fault.

But the answer, that southern twang in Spencer's accent was infinitely annoying. Not only short, abrasive and young, but a trashy redneck as well, Damien almost felt insulted by the presence of the other man.

"Fine, do as you will. I can't fire you." Not because he didn't want to though, Damien made that clear in his tone, but because his father was the one who hired Spencer.

They arrived to the control room where three guards were seated monitoring the security feeds. Three pairs of eyes looked up when Damien walked in with Spencer behind him, and he privately smirked at how likely the guards were to obey a kid. "He's your new head of security," he introduced, and as expected, expressions of disbelief mirrored on the three faces. Damien recognized these three as having higher seniority in the guards, which was why they got the easy job of watching security TV.

"You can make your introductions later." Damien turned to the one on the right, "Ralph, inform the boys that I'll be going into the office early today. Have today's team be ready to accompany me in half an hour." Meaning, whatever happened while he was out, it was none of his business. Finally Damien turned to look to the new head of security, "Spencer, with your capabilities I'm sure you no longer need me to show you around. So excuse me while I get ready for work."

Not so much behind him, really, since Eliot's not about to give the snotty rich boy any delusions by trailing along in his wake here and now. He knows the job, and he'll assume the appropriate position where necessary in public, but there's no way he's playing into Moreau the Younger's delusions of superiority, no matter how much money and supposed influence he has at his finger tips. Not when the kid's barely older than he is. He also makes a note to do something about his situational awareness, because with the kinds of enemies the Moreaus have, even in his own home he should be more alert than he appears to be now.

"No, that you can't," he agrees, mild still. "I'll be doin' my job whether you like it or not," he adds as they reach the main security monitoring room. Eliot sweeps the three men already there with an assessing gaze, matching faces and names to the profiles he's already read on all of the house's staff, not just the security team under his direct authority.

"Richards, Montoya, Esposito," he greets the men, each with a precise nod, refusing to be even remotely intimidated by the fact they've all got at least a decade on him. "No, I'm sure I'll be just fine here, Mr. Moreau." Because he's capable of showing the expected level of respect when it's called for, which it definitely is in front of underlings, and he tips his head respectfully. "Thank you kindly for your time."

And he turns back to his new subordinates, a feral smile on his face as soon as it's out of view of the boss. Because it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell these guys think they're the sharks and he's fresh meat in the water, and he's got a bit less than half an hour to disabuse them of that notion.

The sudden change in attitude in Spencer's answer was unexpected, and it delayed Damien's own response for a second. "Very well," he nodded at the three familiar guards and left them, dismissing them out of his mind.

He spent the announced half hour to properly get ready, showering and redressing what he didn't have the chance to do before. He didn't have time to eat breakfast but he could stop by that on the way to pick up a newspaper and something along with his coffee. At the end of the half hour, he was ready to leave and expected his entourage of three to be ready as well.

Damien honestly didn't expect to see Spencer again before the end of the day, or at all if the younger man knew what was good for him. So no one was more surprised than himself when he spotted the shorter man by the parked car outside the mansion. There was also one less man waiting there. He didn't bother hiding his frown.

Edited 2017-01-24 02:59 (UTC)

Eliot's suit is slightly wrinkled, and the hands he has folded placidly at the small of his back are sporting some bruised and abraded knuckles, but otherwise he looks exactly as Damien had left him half an hour ago.

"Mr. Moreau." He nods respectfully enough at Damien's approach and nods for one of the other men waiting to open the car door, and the man in question obeys with alacrity. And maybe a little bit of nerves.

Damien stopped before the open door, choosing to look squarely at Spencer instead. Looked a little ruffled but no worse for wear, and while Damien didn't know who was originally scheduled to be with him, but it was definitely not Spencer.

"Don't you have duties awaiting you here? I thought the new head of security would be too busy for excursions." Damien was obvious in that he didn't want Spencer with him, but kept up a cool courteousness for appearances. He met Spencer's eyes briefly, and although he turned away first, it was out of disinterest rather than the same nervousness the rest of his detail showed.

Regardless of answer, he tucked himself into the car. "Call Michelangelo's once we're on the way," he addressed the one holding open the car door, "Tell them to have my coffee and breakfast ready to be picked up."

"I'll be spending most of the first week observing and evaluating, sir," he answers, again respectfully. "And that includes offsite arrangements." Especially given how much more vulnerable his charge is when he's away from the compound's extensive (though far from perfect) security measures.

He doesn't appear at all bothered by being so clearly dismissed, just gestures the other two men to take their positions in the car and slides into the front passenger seat for his part, seating himself automatically to make sure he has easy access to all of his weapons, then waiting for the closing of all the doors before indicating to the driver that he can pull away. "

Damien huffed but since Spencer was respectful enough, he dismissed him from his attention. That maintained throughout the ride as well as the brief layover while his breakfast was picked up.

They arrived to the building, and went straight to the penthouse office elevator. However, upon the entry of the elevator, the other two stopped. Damien didn't like guards on the same floor with him and they knew that. So they guarded the elevator up instead.

Eliot knows Damien's preferences as well, he's had access to all of the notes and briefings in the database for the three days, since Moreau the Elder had offered him the job and he'd accepted. Right now, though, it doesn't matter what Damien prefers, what matters is that he needs to do a thorough, in person review of all the security procedures and protocols, and that includes Junior's personal office during business hours. The Moreau's have too damn many enemies and Junior here's too tempting a target for him to be willing to let anything slide.

So he murmurs something to the pair on guard at the elevator, too quiet for the boss's ears, then simply steps on after Moreau, shoulders squared and hands laced placidly behind his back again.

Damien expected insubordination from the redneck, but not blatant ignorance as well. Surely Spencer could've gotten a clue when the other guard's stopped outside the elevators.

Before the doors could close and the elevator be on its way, Damien reached out to press the open button. He looked to Spencer like one would a stupid hound. "Perhaps it's your first day and you're not aware, but you're not too accompany me up. You can remain in the lobby, I'll send for you when I'm ready to leave."

Eliot just gives him a bland look, making absolutely no move to get off the elevator. "Be awfully hard t'observe and evaluate your office security during business hours from down in the lobby. Sir."

He's not budging, Damien. Save face by picking a battle you might win, because you won't be winning this one.

"You're responsible for home security, what happens at the office is not your concern." Damien wasn't giving up without trying, although he was beginning to see Spencer was too dumb, and too stubborn to back off.

"If you're concerned, you're welcome to perform body searches on my visitors." Then in a lower tone, between just him and the redneck, he hissed, "I do not want to see you before I leave this building. That means you're Staying. Down. Here."

"No sir." His voice and expression don't change--mild as milk, absolutely reasonable, and absolutely not budging. "I'm responsible for your security, full stop, as well as the compound. Someone manages to pull something while you're here, that's on me. Which means I'll be looking into every system and policy and procedure in place here." As well as all the employees--and there are a couple he's already pegged as potentially susceptible to blackmail or bribery that he'll be looking into more closely than the rest.

He looks Damien dead in the eye and doesn't flinch. Or budge. Don't make him call daddy, Junior. He doesn't want to, but he will.

Damien huffed, he narrowed his eyes, he even looked to the two guards who stood statue still just outside the elevator. But he was the first to step back in annoyance, releasing the button propping the elevator doors open. Once released, the doors quickly closed, sealing him in with Spencer in the small area.

"You're not going to listen to a thing I tell you, are you?" The elevator was steady and fast, but it still took a while to get to the floor of Damien's office. "I don't need body guards. If I did, I would've hired some."

Eliot doesn't so much as shift through Junior's vacillation and display of annoyance. He doesn't move at all until the doors are closed and Junior speaks, and then it's just to tip his head slightly in his direction.

"I'll listen to anything reasonable. Sir." It's an afterthought, but it's there. "But I was hired 'cause you do need bodyguards. An' properly administered security. An' I'm gonna do my job an' do it right."

"We have very different opinions on reasonable," Damien answered with a mild tone of irritation. It was right before the elevators opened onto the executive floor. Very few people were on this floor, it was connected to the lower floors by stairs alone and none of the other elevators came up this far.

Still, there were a few men up here, but Damien barely acknowledged them as he walked past to his office. A woman holding a tablet stood up from her desk, but he said "Not now, I haven't had breakfast," and waved her away. As if quite used to his quirks, she sighed and said, "Half hour, Mr. Moreau," and sat back down.

Eliot just tips his head slightly in acknowledgment, given there's no point arguing even if he was inclined to. Which he's not. Instead he just follows along in Damien's wake, a bare half-step behind him as he examines the hallways and matches them to his mental map. He makes note of the cameras, the handful of blind spots he wants taken care of.

When Damien reaches his office Eliot follows him to the door, but no farther, taking a quick but focused look around the room from there, with special attention paid to the sightlines from Damien's windows to the nearest buildings. Moreau Senior has plenty of enemies with more than enough money to hire a good sniper, after all.

"I'll just be reviewing the security provisions, Mr. Moreau," he offers, and again there's no way to take exception to his tone. He has at least the appearance of respect down to an art form.

It wasn't Spencer's tone Damien took offense to, that much was agreed upon, it was everything else about the man, from his accent to his unwelcomed presence. But glad that the poor excuse of new security was finally backing off, Damien was happy to give Spencer his dismissal.

"And when you're through, you can join the others back in the lobby." Maybe he would listen, maybe not, but the man already showed he will do what he wanted and there was little Damien could do to change it. At this point, it was a better strategy to ignore him altogether. Settling to do just that, Damien took his breakfast and let god office door close behind him.

Arrogant, spoiled little shit, and no doubt about it, but Eliot's signed on to protect him and that's exactly what he's going to do. So he ignores the clear brush-off and simply goes about his day as planned. Which involves reviewing everything to do with the office's security, from the locking systems to the security cameras to the lockdown procedures and everything in between... including the men left downstairs, who find themselves on disciplinary report when Eliot comes back down for an unscheduled check to them lounging around over coffee. Because they're 'not needed until Mr. Moreau leaves the office again'. Which is bullshit as far as Eliot's concerned. They're the first god damn line of defense and they'd better start acting like it.

What he doesn't do is aggressively invade Damien's personal bubble. Though he's in the office for the entire day, and within spitting--or gunshot--distance of Damien for most of it, he's passably discreet about it. He's generally at the far edge of what he calculates to be his charge's awareness, just far enough that he doesn't have to be acknowledged. But he is there, and he is watching, and he has very definitely made some changes to the office's security protocols by the end of the day, when he's waiting for Damien at the elevator.

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First Sight

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