The Necromerchant's Debt

The street was quiet, the other houses shadowed and silent as he strolled past. He looked the picture of ease.

Like everyone else, he had presumed Shilo Wallace dead. Whether through suicide or even more unfortunate circumstances involving a scalpel and a back alley, it wasn't important. She was gone.

Except she wasn't.

She'd shown up on his goddamn doorstep two years after the fact, all bends and curves and tumbling black curls, and told him she knew that he owed GeneCo. More specifically, her deceased father.

Oh, and how that had made him crack his jaw in restraint of a yell to bring down the entire city.

He'd been free – totally and completely – when the Opera had killed Nathan Wallace. New fingertips would have cost him, and he couldn't have kept his old ones, not with the price on them, and Dr Wallace had needed a supplier for some of the more…questionable items he needed as a doctor. But the man had always left the debt hanging between them, knowing, as they both did, that nothing could add up to the amount the fingertips – the new identity– was worth.

Dead, gone, and then he sends his daughter to do his dirty work. It was just Graverobber's fucking luck.

But still, Shilo had made it plain that it was only one favour he had to do – one, and that was it. Debt cleared.

And so he was walking down Finch Street, one of the classier abandoned neighbourhoods, waiting to catch a glimpse of Shilo.

When he reached a shadowed garden gate, the front garden just rocks and dust beyond the rusting railings, he paused and leant on it while he looked for a smoke in his pockets.

His neck prickled just as he lit up.

"Hey," he said around the battered cigarette.

A hand slipped over his shoulder, warming his skin through his thick coat.

"Graves," came the soft and husky voice.

He turned, smoke waterfalling from his nostrils, and smirked at Shilo.

Her hair was up, pinned in a messy bun, letting odd strands of black curl down to her collarbone, and her eyes were shadowed with dark make-up. He took in her black vest top and skin-tight leather hipsters hugging her generous rack and hips, and took a long drag.

He wanted to peel them off of her with his teeth.

"Dressed up, I see," Graverobber said on the exhale.

She hummed noncommittally, eyes on the house across the street as they stood camouflaged in the shadows. "You could've made an effort," she murmured.

He gave a bark of laughter. "Sweetheart, I really don't give a shit."

As he took another drag, eyes half-shut behind the curls of silver smoke, he watched her smirk.

"I know," she said. "It doesn't matter. You've got skills."

His eyebrow quirked. "What skills will we be needing this evening?"

Graverobber reckoned he had a thirty-five percent chance of getting laid after his debt was repaid, and the percentage only went up as Shilo stepped closer, eyes on him.

"Breaking and entering," Shilo answered. "Someone stole from me, and we're here to do something about it. After that, we just need you to get us the fuck out of here. Got it?"

The percentage went down, but only slightly.

He took another drag and dropped the smoke, before crushing it under the heel of his boot and loosening shoulders.

"Sure, kid," Graverobber replied, sending the smoke waterfalling again as he limbered up a bit.

Her silence was telling. He smirked at the floor as he stretched, reaching for his toes.

"Don't call me that," she said lowly, and when Graverobber straightened up he was presented with a blade to his neck.

Her eyes sparked in the dark.

He huffed out a breath through his nose, wondering when she'd gotten so tough and why it was such a turn on. The whole 'beautiful with attitude' thing had him hard – hard-er.

The corner of his mouth lifted up in a half-smile as he resisted the urge to let his hand reach out, slide down to her hip, and palm her thigh.

"What do you want me to call you?" He asked quietly, low and dark.

Shilo smirked back, pressing the knife against his neck just a little harder. "You can call me anything you want, but I'd think about it first if I were you."

He flashed his teeth. "I'm sure I'll think of something."

A noise sounded across the street, drawing both of their gazes.

"There he is," she whispered in his ear, removing the blade.

Graverobber watched as a dark-haired man stumbled out of a side-alley, gripping the low brick wall running around the outside of the house next to it, before throwing himself through the garden gate and at the tall front door. He fumbled with the locks for a second, before falling through the yawning darkness and slamming the door shut behind him.

"Who is he?" Graverobber asked.

Shilo cricked her neck. "My first."

She ran across the street, leaving Graverobber staring for a few seconds before he caught up and chased after her.

He certainly hadn't thought her virginal, not with those hips, but there was that uncomfortable worming of jealousy in his chest that she'd already been tapped. Not fully tested, perhaps, not many men knew how to get everything out of a woman, but still broken in.

Graverobber grabbed her wrist as they circled the house and came to a broken basement window.

"Listen," he growled. "If this is some cracked revenge thing against the guy who popped your cherry, then–"

"Then, what?" She asked calmly, pulling at the lock.

Well, he wasn't really sure where he was going with it, since she had all the cards.

Shilo smirked like she could read his thoughts. "Exactly. Shut up and help me."

He watched her ass sway in her tight pants for a second, before rolling his eyes and kicking the broken glass out. Luckily, it didn't make a sound.

She looked like she wanted to suckerpunch him, but she stayed quiet and pulled open the lock from the inside. She slipped through first, and Graverobber went tumbling after into the dark.

He caught himself before he could do any damage though, crouching against something…squishy.

"Hey, ki–tten. What the hell is this?"

Shilo's voice came from somewhere to his left. "He's a body-snatcher zaddict."

"Christ. Why the fuck did you let him touch you?"

Harvesting Z was one thing, but stockpiling bodies in your own basement… Well, he had limits.

"I didn't," was her answer, before a shaft of light broke through the darkness and Shilo pulled him through a door.

He didn't have time to question her response, because as soon as they broke out of the basement they were faced with the man himself.

He was bent over, pulling empty bottles out of a cupboard under the sink of the kitchen they were stood in and muttering to himself. He looked dirty, run ragged by the city and life in general, but he was dressed well. The latest rags hung from his wiry frame.

Graverobber watched him, while Shilo just strode right up to him and landed a hard punch to his kidney.

The guy doubled over with a yell, cracking his jaw on the hard edge of the sink on his way down. Shilo stood over him as he coughed and spluttered.


"Remember me?" Shilo asked, sweeping down into a crouch and pulling out her blade again.

The guy laughed at her, even as he clutched at his side.

Graverobber wondered if the guy had a death wish.

"Hmm, yeah. Maybe I do remember you. Black hair, black eyes…tight snatch," the guy grunted out, smiling.

Shilo didn't twitch. Graverobber felt his hands clench into fists.

"Tight, huh?" She asked conversationally, though the way she was waving her knife above his face said she was feeling anything but.

The guy didn't take the hint. "Yeah. Tight."

Shilo cocked her head at him. "Like, virgin-tight?"

The guy's greasy smile made Graverobber take a step forward, but he didn't interrupt.

"Tighter than that, sweetheart," the guy growled. "But definitely cherry."

"And was it rape?" She asked.

The guy didn't answer, just lay there panting slightly.

Shilo pressed the blade to his chest. "Don't know? Well, I'll tell you. It was, and this is payback."

Graverobber watched as she tore him to shreds. Piece-by-piece, Shilo cut her way down his body, leaving him to scream for a long while before slitting his throat haphazardly in a spray of blood.

Graverobber didn't say a word, just stood back and watched, and when she was done he offered her a rag from the side of the dingy kitchen.

She wiped her knife clean. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

When Shilo was done, leaving a trail of bloody boot-prints across the floor, she finally looked at him. "Now comes your part."

"I was wondering how my services might be rendered," Graverobber muttered, looking over the corpse.

The dead guy didn't have enough of a face to harvest any Z.

"His heart was linked to Sweet's personal monitor," Shilo said calmly, sheathing her knife. "GeneCops will be here any second. Get us both out of here and your debt's cleared."

"Right," and he was off, dragging Shilo by the wrist after him as he ran them through a dank hallway and out of the front door.

"Are you crazy? The front door?"

They were through it in a matter of seconds and out onto the street the next, turning down a side alley just as thundering footfalls sounded and there was a wailing of sirens.

"They'd never expect something so stupid," Graverobber hissed back to her, tightening his grip.

"Stupid is right," Shilo shot back, and Graverobber smirked at her as he pulled her through the shadows.

Thirty minutes later found them both safe and sound inside of Shilo's squat, a fat bottle of whiskey passing between them.

"How'd you get this?" Graverobber asked, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand after a long gulp.

Whiskey, cigarettes…now all he needed was a nice lay and he'd be in heaven. Shilo was still looking like a good bet.

"My dad's stash," she replied huskily, swigging from the bottle. "I raided his study the night of the Opera. I found his journals, too. It's how I knew about your debt to him."

Graverobber nodded. "What about the guy you sliced and diced?"

Shilo muttered something under her breath, shaking her head and throwing it back against the wall of the corner they were sat in with a soft mattress beneath them.

"I found a place," Shilo sighed. "Right after the Opera, I hid in this little room off of the Square, and he found me there. Jinx. He was high, looking for something to touch, and he raped me. Left me for dead, too."

She tapped her chest, and Graverobber could see a long curling scar just peeking over the top of her vest.

Was it wrong for him to like that jagged pink mark? It looked…touchable, especially on Shilo's moon-pale skin.

"Anyway, he was Sweet's personal dealer – not to mention her little fucktoy." She swigged again, before passing it back to him. "Thanks for having my back. Really, I just needed a wing-man. Although it didn't hurt that you're so quick on your feet."

Graverobber smirked around the bottle, removing his mouth with a dull pop and swallowing as he lay the whiskey to one side.

"It's not the only thing I can do," he said seriously, leaning forward.

Shilo smiled and sat back. "Finally stopped dancing around it?"

"Dancing around what?"

"The fact you want to fuck me."

Graverobber made a show of deciding. "I haven't decided the position yet, but I s'pose we can work on that when we get to it."

Shilo flashed her naturally white teeth at him. "When are we going to get to it?"


"Why not?" She shrugged. "I've got to lie low for a bit, and I'm sure you've got a few spare minutes before you've got to go back to peddling your wares."

Graverobber crawled the few scant feet towards her, pressing his cheek to hers so he could whisper against her ear, "I'm going to take a lot longer than a few minutes with you, kitten."

His hand slid up her thigh, fingertips trailing over the seam in her leather pants and playing with the long laces at the front.

Shilo's breathing hitched ever so slightly. He grinned in the dim light coming from the sole light bulb in the room.

Her hands tugged off his coat, thumbs digging into his shoulders as she crawled onto his lap. Graverobber divested her of her tank and hipsters, leaving her in nothing but a black cotton bra.

His cock ached as he growled. "No panties?"

Shilo moaned as his teeth attacked the slender column of her neck. "Not for you."

Graverobber chuckled against her throat as his fingers found her wet and hot between her thighs.

"Did you want me when you asked me to come with you?"

It was Shilo's turn to laugh. "That was my third reason for bringing you tonight."

Graverobber slipped two fingers inside of her as she writhed on his lap, her fingers gripping his shirt and pulling it down his arms. He bit at her neck as they rearranged on the mattress, hands sliding, fingers finding, and clothes being peeled away.

Beneath the bra, she had fantastic tits – full, pink-tipped, and soft. He told her so.

She smiled, sliding her hand between them and down his naked stomach. "Thanks. You've got pretty eyes – like Z."

He moaned against her neck as her fingers wrapped around his released cock, stroking at just the right pressure and swirling her thumb just beneath the flushed head at exactlythe right speed.

His own thumb flicked her clit, before sliding up through her curls and painting a damp trail up her belly. Shilo wriggled beneath him eagerly, thighs spreading.

Graverobber sat back on his heels for a moment, to rid himself of his boots and his pants, and once he was done he gripped her slim ankles and gently pulled her legs apart.

She looked so beautiful, black curls above and below, all glorious and spread before him, but he didn't tell her so this time. He'd save it for the next.

And there would be a next.

He palmed himself as he crawled over her, licking her nipple on his way up. Shilo arched for more, but didn't move her splayed thighs.

"Mmm. Good girl."

Graverobber rocked against her for a moment, rubbing the head of his cock against her wet cunt, watching as he did so. Shilo allowed him his play, gently tugging on his dreads and reaching up to bite his earlobe.

Fuck, that feels good.

And then, without warning, he thrust inside of her.

Shilo threw her head back onto the mattress with a restrained cry, but Graverobber wasn't so in control. Definitely not. Her pussy was tight enough for him to let out a near-yell.

"Holy fucking Christ," he growled at her, nipping at her full and flushed bottom lip.

His hair fell around their faces, and Shilo's expression was blissful in the shadow.

"Fuck me," she moaned, running her hands down his back. "Graves."

And he did.

Graverobber's hips snapped in rhythm to an unknown beat and with every withdrawal Shilo would writhe until he had thrust within her again.

Her body was delicious, her mouth nearly as hot as her tight cunt, and her tongue was so fucking sinful as it curled around his.

His hands gripped her hips, pulling them up until her back arched and her body bowed for him. He could remember taking Sweet this way, among a few other choice zaddicts, but never could he remember a more beautiful woman.

And she was a woman. Two years without her father's poison had given her a slim and slender height, with perfect curves and deliciously pale skin. The only mark on her was the jagged scar running above and between her breasts, and Graverobber couldn't help but drop his mouth to it and run kisses along the healed, pink skin.

Her fingers clawed at him. "So close. Soclose. A little more."

He felt like his heart might give out any second, but he followed her command to the letter, angling their bodies so his pelvis met her clit hard as he fucked her harder.

And as Shilo's mouth fell open, her face a perfect picture of pleasure, he felt his body tighten. His balls tingled, a coil sprang apart in his belly, and then he felt a freezing hot rush of nothingness wash over his body as he came deep within her.

He wavered for a moment or two above her, vision blurred and hazy, before gently setting Shilo back onto the mattress and following her down. He covered her body with his, wrapping his arms around her warm curves and pressing his face into the crook of her neck.

Christ, she smelt good, like sex and strawberries, and he knew he wasn't going to let her go for a long, long time. If ever.

"Is there any more whiskey?" She asked a few moments later, quiet against his ear.

He lifted his head and looked down at her. "Yeah. You want a smoke?"

"Have you got one?"

"In my coat."

Shilo smiled. "Sure."

Graverobber reached over Shilo to pull out some stray cigarettes lining his coat pockets, along with his lighter and the precariously perched bottle of whiskey ready to tip over on a loose floorboard.

As they lit up, Graverobber still lying on Shilo with their legs tangled together, he murmured, "You know, I get the feeling that this was your plan all along."

"What?" Shilo raised an eyebrow. "Blackmail you into watching me kill a rapist and then seduce you with dim lighting and matured whiskey?"

He just nodded.

She smirked. "I may have allowed time for seduction in my plans for tonight."

"What about in the morning?" Graverobber asked.


"Well," he took a long drag, "my plans are to fall asleep here, with you, just like this, and then when we wake up I'll fuck you again, except you'll be on top."

"On top, huh?" She asked, mouth quirked in a devilish smile – one that Graverobber would have been proud of with all his sparkle and spin to draw in his prey.

He made a growling noise, which was the only thing he seemed able to do at that moment while his cock hardened against her soft inner thigh.

Damn that fucking smile.

Shilo reached over and stubbed out her cigarette on the closest floorboard at the edge of the mattress, before turning back to him and crooking one slender finger for him to come closer.

He bent his face to hers, exhaling and sharing his drag between them. She didn't blink, pulling in the silver curls through red lips.

"What if I can't wait 'til morning?" She asked seductively, arching her back invitingly and running her toes up the back of his knee as she breathed out the haze.

He grinned through the smoke. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Author'snote: Really just to tide me over in my current Grilo phase. No prequel, no sequel, just a smutty one-shot, and, I assure you, there's more to come. Thanks for reading, reviews appreciated! (: (Title filched from the first Repo! script.)