Sullivan was finally alone at the funeral home and he brought himself to sit at his black beauty; an 1878 Steinway Model A Grand Piano. It wasn't often that he had a chance to sit and finger the ivories, so when the time arose he chose to do just that. His fingers glided effortlessly over the black and whites as the sound carried the man off into the deepest depths of his mind, his eyes closing as the world around him shifted. On the outside he looked content, the corners of his lips slightly canted upward in what could be considered a smile.

((Listen to the song here!))

In his mind, however, the story flowed much differently...

Like a dream world, where anything could happen, Sullivan worked on one of the cadavers in the basement. He sewed her body up after the embalming and began to dress the young woman in a nice gown fit for a queen. She looked utterly beautiful once he was finished with her and he smiled with his work. He would move her upstairs once everything inside her had settled.

Turning to head upstairs, he hit the light but as his foot lifted he heard something behind him. Stopping, he turned to see the body standing upright next to the table.

"What the fu-" he started before she giggled and curtsied, cutting him off.

"Thank you, sir. I don't think I've looked this pretty in years." She spun, allowing the dress to spin out as the music flared from outside his skull. Sully blinked and rubbed his eyes, but all of the bodies in the basement were standing slowly, swaying in time with each swell of the notes reverberating. He laughed as he stepped back into the room, taking the hand of the lovely woman he'd just finished embalming and dancing her around the room. It was almost as if they danced at a ball, a macabre masquerade, each lead by invisible strings like marionettes to the puppeteer that was his mind.

They danced for what felt like hours, laughing and giggling. However, as the song came to an end, Sully slowly came back to the reality around him. He was finally alone at the funeral home, so he'd thought...

Clapping from the back made him jump and hit the most awful chord on the keys in his startle. He spun, laughing, and greeted the person.

"Yes, hello. What can I do for you today?"

Sullivan wrapped his hands around the back of him, gripping his wrists and approaching. From the outside, he would appear a normal, tall, lanky but handsome man. Approachable was easily a word used to describe, though his personality was something peculiar.

The person who'd clapped and had been listening turned to quickly leave as Sully made his way over.

"No, wait!"  He reached outward as he spoke, but they were already gone... He was alone again. With a heavy sigh, Sully hung his head. Sometimes it was nice to be alone, but it was never a good feeling when people ran from him. He knew his job had people thinking him strange. 'Who likes to play with the dead?' was a question he often heard in whispers as he passed by, people's eyes constantly on him.

Sullivan headed toward the front door to see if he could catch the person, swinging the heavy wooden doors outward. The cold slapped him in the face and snow nipped at the threshold. He took a few steps out into the freezing air and yelled, "Hello?! Was there something I could do for you?!"

He looked around hoping for an answer...

Almost as if his dreams danced to life, a soft giggle echoed down the hallway behind him. Jackie could almost see the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he turned slowly away from the threshold, the open doorway framing him in picturesque snowfall. Her head cocked to the side in a distinctly avian fashion as she regarded him with curious fascination. 

Dark hair framed her light eyes in coifed pin curls, and her pale skin screamed in stark contrast to the black dress that hemmed her figure in sleek, polished buttons. She stood demurely, smiling up at him, her hands clasping a small violin case in front of her. Her eyes were undeniably cheery, despite the service he knew she'd just attended for her late husband.  "Actually... um... Mister Black, I was just wondering," she held the case up with a faint blush, "Can you follow?"She took a meek step toward him, her eyes tracing the long lines of his fitted suit as her cheeks flushed a deeper pink. "I'm terribly sorry if I startled you. It wasn't my intention. It's just... I left my baby in the chapel, and when I came back in you were playing so beautifully..."  

His song had stirred her -  speaking to some long-hidden place no one had touched in decades. She felt like an oasis in the desert as she drank in all of him: slender fingers, chiselled features, blue eyes... the way he moved, the way he played, the way his long lashes fluttered along with the sounds around them. She felt as if she were dying of thirst and he were a tall drink of water. Jackie turned her eyes down to the crimson carpet, feeling an unfamiliar heat rising to her face. Something in her knew that the feeling was utterly inappropriate. But it had been so long since she'd felt anything... anything at all... that even the idea of something so torridly taboo sent electric chills dancing down her spine. In the most hidden parts of herself, she yearned... she screamed to look at someone with anything OTHER than loathing and contempt... and to have them SEE her. Not as an asset or a chess-piece or a dowry, not as a housemaker or a bedwarmer or womb, not as a means to an end, but really SEE HER. And now that Uberto was squared away and the smothering weight of his authoritarian domination melted away as he rotted in his filigreed mahogany coffin, the ember of hope that had smouldered in the shadows of her mind for long was finally sparking to life... setting be damned!

"Uberto never let me play. He never let me do anything," she blushed at the floor.  "So I put him in the ground with an aria,"  she smiled wickedly wide, her pale eyes flicking up to meet his gaze; half-fearful and half-exhilarated at the unknown prospect of his waiting expression. Would he smile back? Might he laugh? Or would she find only further disdain and disgust as had been her now-deliquesce marriage? 

The giggling sent a chill straight up his spine and he straightened, stiff as a board. His hair stood on end and his skin flushed with goosebumps... You know the feeling, one of those moments where your ass puckers, your cheeks press together tightly, and the only thing that goes through your mind is -'HNNNNGGGGHHHHH THAT'S NOT OKAY-

Slowly he turned as he mouthed to himself, 'there's nothing there... there's nothing there... there's noth-'

His whole body froze as his eyes landed on the woman's silhouette which was masked in the shadows of the hallway behind him. It took him a moment to refocus back to the dim lighting of the home after staring outside and with a sigh of relief, he chuckled,  "Oh, Mrs Bianchi, it's just you... You were wondering?" Sullivan canted his head to the side before she asked her question... -Could he follow?- A grin spread across his features reaching nearly from ear to ear.

"Can I follow? Why Mrs Bianchi, I was practically born an accompanist." He nodded his head as he approached her, his arms taking their place behind his back as per the usual. "I must question though, that piece you played earlier? Most widowers do not offer such a cheerful tone for their lover's loss."

He lifted his head from the avian-like lean to an upright position, his head turned slightly but his eyes still on her. "Might I ask why?" His eyes narrowed just slightly as he wondered.

As she explained, Sully moved to the plush chairs in the room and took a seat, waving a hand for her to do the same. "That is absolutely revolting to hear that he would stifle such talent! I can't believe that he wouldn't let you play!" He leaned forward in his seat,  "That is absolutely absurd! With talent as yours, he should have been SHOWCASING IT! You're a stunning natural. Forgive me if this is forward, but I couldn't keep my eyes off of you as you played. The way your hands cradled the instrument, the way your head swayed back and forth, the way your whole body moved as the piece swelled and dipped... It was truly freeing."

Sullivan leaned back, obviously slightly frustrated at the fact that Uberto had hidden her away. Crossing his legs and his arms, he looked off toward the piano.  "I apologize. It's inappropriate for me to speak such ways considering your recent loss." Turning back to her, Sullivan continued...  "I must though. I've not seen a woman as you were in that moment. It truly stirred my very soul." He blushed just slightly and added, looking away again, "As you do now in this moment..."

Clearing his throat and standing abruptly, he grinned, "Um..." He took a deep breath and stepped away toward the chapel. Uberto was still in there, scheduled for transportation in the late evening. "Shall we play a duet for him then? And then perhaps accidentally mess it his arrangements for his funerary rites? I can easily change what he wished for..."

There was a wickedly inviting smirk spread across his features as he reached out to Jaqueline. "Well?"

JJ tried to stifle a giggle as she shifted 'uncomfortably' in the plush armchair.  "Please don't apologize, Sullivan,"  she smiled as she stood to pace around the armchair, trying desperately to quell and quiet the growing ache his icy gaze roused in her. "Err... may I call you 'Sullivan',"  she added as an afterthought, marvelling at how smoothe the American name felt in her mouth. Truth be told, of the laundry list of things she yearned to call him, 'Sullivan' was undoubtedly near the bottom. But, as improprieties go, she thought it was best to lead with the lesser. Her stockings whispered softly beneath the form-fitting wool dress as she squeezed her thighs together; shifting to one side as she leaned over the back of the armchair. It was a pitiful attempt at camouflaging her fevered distress, but it was the best she could muster... for his sake. 

"Ours was a union born of purely corporate interests and arranged by my Grandfather's need of clandestine shipping operations in the states. I assure you, there is no loss on my part nor anything to mourne between us," her voice followed him as he stood and moved toward the chapel, stopping short with a husky giggle as her eyes lighted upon his perked brow and siren-esque smirk. "Ave Maria... pray for us sinners," she muttered softly under her breath; shaking her head with a disbelieving smile as she stared at him for a moment, in awe and wonder. It was unfair how stunning he was. Yet he seemed entirely oblivious, a look of perplexity crossing his keen features as his brow perked all the more at her beholden expression. 

"Keep looking at me like that, and quite the 'messy' 'duet' it will be," she teased with a tantalizing smirk of her own as she straightened and followed him toward the door with a noticeable feminine swagger; her back seam stockings making that same soft whisper with each accentuated step. 

"JACQUELINE JULIETTE MESSINA BIANCHI!!!" a male voice boomed from the main door, causing both of them to jump in sheer startlement. "How dare you disgrace the good name of your husband AND of your Grandfather with such vulgar disrespect. Have you no SHAME?"  Jacqueline seemed suddenly taller as her chin snapped up at the sound of her name; her shoulders arching back as she puffed up with marked indignation. "Suck my swollen, aching clit, Giuseppe," she spat at her chaperone with angst and contempt, carefully emphasizing each word she knew would cause the man displeasure. "I did my civic duty. I tolerated over a decade with that perverse slob. And now I am head of the Bianchi family. Not you. Not Enzo. Me. And I would appreciate it if you treated me as such," she handed her violin to Sully with a roll of her eyes and a weak shrug of apology.  

"Get your ass in the car before you embarrass yourself, girl," Giuseppe began to protest but fell short as Jackie's obsidian curls cascaded around her shoulders as she loosed the hairpin that had held the updo in place. Its sharpened edge gleamed beneath the lacquered death's head moth adornment, even in the soft incandescent lighting of the foyer."Actually, Giuseppe, you're fired," she said flatly, turning the hair-knife so that it's gleaming edge flashed poignantly. "I'll be revoking your work visa tomorrow. You will fly home to Sicily and tell Don Enzo," she spat her Grandfather's name as if it were rotten, "that I will send along the inventory, profit reports, and dummy contracts with my new business proposals." 

"Otherwise," she took a threatening step closer, her pale eyes narrowing resolutely, "I'll gut you right here like the pig that you are and have dear Mr. Black stuff you in filthy lover's coffin, and I'll dance on both your graves before the night's end. Capisce?" Giuseppe gulped nervously as Jackie smiled over her shoulder at Sullivan; her eyes wordlessly apologizing for dragging him into their little argument. "Don Messina will never agree to this," Giuseppe said demurely, bowing his head in defeat. "Then he can come and get me himself," Jacqueline replied with a sinister grin, knowing that would NEVER come to pass. 

"Very well,"  the man in the doorway relented, "I will make preparations." "Good," JJ chirped as Giuseppe moved to exit, "And leave the Jonckheere," Giuseppe grumbled, but acknowledged her with a dismissive wave as he pulled the door closed behind himself; the sleek, round-doored coupe just barely visible through the misty snow. 

Clearing her throat, Jackie turned back to Sullivan, "My deepest apologies. Perhaps now you see why I do not mourn my gain in status?" She winked playfully at him. Closing the distance between them with a soft but shy smile, she reached to take her violin case back; the brush of her calloused fingertips lightly against the back of his hand exacerbating the bright flush colouring her cheeks. 

"Shall we...?" She gestured nervously in the direction they'd been headed before Giuseppe's explosive interruption with a nervous giggle; her hand rugging furious circles along the back of her neck as she eagerly awaited his response. 

Sully turned, facing the angered and disgusted voice of the male from the front door. His face contorted into a saddened frown as he tried to speak up, "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to get Mrs. Bian-" Jacqueline cut him off as she ferociously verbally attacked the man, letting him know just where his place was.

Sully blinked, utterly surprised. Part of him couldn't believe the vulgarities that flew from the beautiful Jacqueline's lips, another part of him smirked and laughed wildly... Guiseppe's face, oh if he could see his own, the complete shock of Jac's words causing his features to twist.

The two went back and forth, and Sully's head bounced back and forth like watching the ball at a tennis match. He chuckled a bit as Jackie fired Guiseppe and moved toward the chapel room, and passed Sully...

"You have a Jonckheere?" he followed her into the room and made his way back to the piano to take a seat.

"He's an amazing designer!" Sully added as he sat. His hands ran a scale on the piano, almost as if he was re-warming himself up as if he hadn't just played maybe twenty minutes prior.

"Also, sending your chauffeur away and firing him? That was entertaining and inspiring, and to not fear Mr. Messina? You are quite the intriguing little swirl, aren't you?" He smirked, playing the same scale again, reversed. "You wished to play? I would -love- to play. What -SHOULD- we play?" The smirk remained as he shot her a wicked glance, fingers playing tauntingly over a minor and bouncing.

"Tell me a key, don't tell me a key, it doesn't matter... I'll read your soul and follow it's twisting path, and we'll tell your story."

He slammed his fingers down on a haunting chord, the sound filling the chapel as it reverberated off the walls in near perfect acoustic resonance.

"Shall we? You lead... I'll follow."

Jackie giggled softly as she stooped to free her violin from its coffin-like prison. "MY story, hm," she teased him, echoing the scale up and down,  "How about OUR story?" She grinned wickedly as he taunted her with a bouncing minor. She harmonized the shaking chord with a shivering G minor, swaying slightly to the resonant vibrato, "Let's wake the dead and make them dance for us, darling." 

She twirled, her fingers flying into a staccato melody in 6/8 time. He followed her flawlessly as she waltzed circles around the polished grand. Her eyes flitted closed as she melted into the music, desperately lost in the ecstasy of it. Every one in a while her musical laughter bounced off the vaulted ceilings, mingled with the trill of her strings as they passed the melody back and forth effortlessly. Dizzy from her spinning, JJ plopped unceremoniously onto the piano bench next to him, facing away from the keys so as not to interrupt either of their playings. Unabashed and utterly enraptured she sighed and moaned softly, humming along with his counter melody even as she played. 

As the song crescendoed into a running descent, she shifted to meet his gaze. Her pale eyes alight with reckless abandon and a taunting kind of mischief.  She flushed a fetching pink as she bit into her bottom lip. Her soul was on full display as the song slowed to a lingering, quivering close. It had been years since she allowed herself to be so vulnerable with anyone... and without words, no less. If he was truly as good at "reading" as he claimed, then she was surely in deep water... an open score by now. 

With a slightly bashful chuckle, she pried herself away from the seat, forcing herself to put a more comfortable distance between them. With a contented sigh, she plopped down onto a nearby pew, her violin cradled lovingly in her lap. "Oh how I've missed myself," she joked, brushing a stray strand of dark hair from her eyes. "I can't wait to start ALL of the things Uberto forbade." She hugged the instrument to her chest, looking downright freshly ridden in her elation, "Maybe I'll even start working again. I have SO missed pathology." 

Jackie smiled up at him with a twinkling glint in her eye. "And you're the only person I know who could possibly understand that," she laughed,  "What a beautifully odd pair we'd make." She rested her head against the back of the pew, "But we'd make beautiful music together."  Her laughter grew until it nearly shook the dust from the rafters. How long had it been since she'd laughed at all, much less like this? It was freeing. And even in its oddity, it was beautiful.

Perhaps all the more so for it?

Sullivan followed with ease, countering her melody up and down the keys. The song was beautiful and haunting all in the same as they both retreated to their own world. His eyes closed and they played along, her words placing him in a graveyard as the dead rose around him and began to waltz.

He could sense her moving around him in a dance of her own, yet in his mind it was the skeletons of those long since gone and buried. His fingers bounced heavily on the black and ivory keys of his piano, popping a riveting "horror-mony" of scale runs and chords as they went along. Sully was lost in his own world of swirling bliss as she took a seat next to him. His eyes shot open as his head turned slowly, giving her a sidelong glance as his hands continued to dance along. His hair fell down across his face as his head swung, his whole body lifting from the bench and bringing his weight down on the keys, literally bouncing in his seat as they played. He was an animated musician, fun to watch as he masterfully echoed the emotions she poured out into their music.

As the song crescendoed and she looked at him, she'd catch his gaze studying her the whole time. He'd never once taken his eyes from her after she had sat. She flushed, and he offered a smirk. His eyes looked as if they saw deep into her very soul, almost like she could find herself getting lost in the swirling pool of misty blues. He leaned closer, so close that she could feel his heated breath brushing near her lips though they never touched. He knew she wanted it, but he wasn't quite -that- brazen. He'd give her ample time to work through her late husband's things before bothering with that... Unless she mentioned otherwise later.

As the song ended with them mere inches apart from one another, he watched as she pulled away. A wide grin was pulled across his features, a true smile from the young Mr. Black while she giggled and made herself more comfortable on one of the pews. He turned, straddling his bench to face her properly.

"Pathology, hmm? A wonderful study for certain! I'm not sure we'd be so odd... At least not to each other." That killer smile was there. How could he be so strange yet so DASHINGLY gorgeous? It's almost as if she were staring at the devil himself, one who could easily convince her to sell her soul. "Everyone else might think us an odd pair, but that would only be because most already think myself odd." He couldn't help but lower his head at the thought, though it wasn't from being ashamed. No, it was an unabashed, wicked grin. He -liked- being labeled strange. Something about it gave him power, like others didn't know what to truly expect of the funeral director known as Mr. Black.

The tension was dripping in the room, but the sound of applause caught -both- of them off guard. Sully's head whipped around, his bright blue eyes casting their glow on Guiseppe who'd been listening the whole time.

"My apologies, Mr. Black, Mrs. Bianchi. I only intended to bring you the keys. I've cleared out the Jonckheere and am waiting on a cab. I must say..." The man reached up to wipe the tears from his face, "The two of you play amazingly well together. I wish I'd have known, Madam Jacqueline. I apologize for making such a fuss earlier. I only wish I'd have known before."

He approached as he spoke, and held the keys out to Jacqueline as he reached her. "Do take care of yourself, Madam..."

She stared at him in dumbstruck silence, a soft whimper accidentally escaping her throat as she shifted in her seat. His smile actually took her breath away... in the most literal sense possible. She stared at him and she couldn't breathe. He made her heart pound, and her head spin. He made everything inside her strain and sing. She was drowning in him when the thunderous applause from the door forced air back into her lungs as she broke the surface of the crystal blue water of his eyes. 

JJ actually squeaked a little as she whipped around to face the door. All the confidence seemed to drain out of her with Giuseppe's compliment. Suddenly she was girl-like and bashful, even as she reached for the keys. "Miss Messina, please. I'm not Bianchi ANYMORE," she corrected with an odd smile. "And I will. I'll arrange for your pension to be transferred into your account as soon as I make it home... Thank you." Giuseppe nodded solemnly as he dropped the keys into her upturned palm. He gave her fingers a light squeeze with his thick hands before turning for the door.

Pausing on the way out, he turned back for just a moment,  "I really will miss you, Jules," he said, whispering her childhood nickname, "It was an honour to watch you grow up. I know you will make a fine Mafiosa." His gaze shifted to Sullivan for a moment, "YOU... slippery devil... you understand her. Don't take that for granted. It's a rare trait, indeed." With that, he slipped out the door and out of her life forever. Leaving the two in silence once again. 

Jacqueline giggled nervously as she moved back to the pew where her violin and case rested. She was blushing... brightly. Part of her thought she should take the keys and run. Never look back. This other part of her though, it was humming softly in her head in that way that just won't GO AWAY until it's let out... something, again, she thought only he would understand. Picking the violin up again, she held his blue gaze as she played out a stirring, lilting melody like southern praise, arsenic, and old lace. Her wicked smirk echoing his own and begging him to read the soulful score she was laying out before him. 

His legs spun back around underneath the piano, and his fingers danced idly in place as he watched her, her finger placement, her body swaying, the hair atop her head falling down and around her to shield and hide her as she opened herself to him. He played along, his fingers gliding along with her as he danced his own dance to her music. She poured her soul out into the song, her aching, her wants, her needs... It begged for his touch as the music collided and sweetened itself all the more. The melodies danced back and forth, a push and pull as he tugged her soul nearer with each wrinkle of a finger...

Allowing his soul to intertwine with hers, the two embraced as the song's notes swirled and filled the room in perfect harmony and melody. She'd feel him in the depths of her very existence, touching places of her's long left vacant and wanting. Writhing in sweat, he made her heart flutter in haste with every touch of keys, and her the same to him with each stroke along the strings. Their song crescendoed to it's climax, and the two instruments screamed out in rapture as the overture of souls played out...

Sully stood after everything was done. "Mrs. Messina, was it? Instead of Bianchi?" He chuckled... "It's getting late. We should probably get you out of here."

He buttoned his jacket in place and smoothed it, offering a hand and helping her to her feet. "Before the snow falls and traps you here with me and the... resting cadavers. Plus I'd like to get home at some point this evening." He smiled to her kindly.

"Perhaps you'd like to meet for lunch some day?" He ran a hand through his hair brushing it back away from his face. "If not, I understand, but I know I -thoroughly- enjoyed this evening more than I probably should have. I hope you can say the same?"

His eyes searched hers, hoping for the answer he wanted as they stood there... A longing lover's stare.

Jackie's hand trembled as he helped her to her feet. Slipping the instrument back into its case, she chuckled shyly, "OH! I'm so sorry. I suppose you're right." Twisting her hair into a loose updo and securing it back in place with her knifelike hairpin, she smiled up at him sheepishly. She had to force herself to breathe as she reached for her keys, the metal tinkling softly as he fingers continued to shake with equal measures adrenaline and fatigue. Biting her lip, she nodded quietly. "I would enjoy that very much," she admitted, scuffing the toe of her black pumps along the chapel's crimson carpet lightly, "Preferably sooner rather than later?"

She blushed a little, as she had most of the night, as she looked up at him. Internally, she kicked herself for not kissing him earlier when he was SO close. But then... she WAS only freshly a widow. And Hell only knew what he would think if she did. Though that stare her was giving her gave her woefully wonderful ideas. "I, um..." she scooched a little closer to him, keys and case in one hand.  "I could... um... give you a ride home... if you want?" 

She realized she had no idea if he had his own car... or anything else about him for that matter... what if there was a MRS. Black?!  "I mean... if you wanna see the Jonckheere... and you don't have a ride already." It was her turn to search his chilly blue eyes as her look of sudden worry spoke volumes. "I'd be happy to help you close up, if you do... want a ride that is. I know my way around a morgue, after all. I mean... unless you'd rather me just leave you to it?" She was rambling. She knew it. But it was like her tongue had grown a mind of its own. Biting down hard on it, she forced herself to be silent beneath his cerulean gaze. Her hand and her heel traced mirroring circles along the back of her neck and the chapel carpet as she meekly awaited his response. 

He chuckled a bit... She was absolutely adorable. He couldn't help but wonder if she knew how so that was? Regardless, he smiled at her. That same, deadly smile of his that would send shivers down her spine.

"I actually don't have that much to do before I can leave, but I wouldn't mind a ride. I actually took the long way here today... Walking." He chuckled. "I didn't mean to be here this late... No offense meant because it was quite refreshing to be here with you."

He waved her to follow him as he made his way towards his office. "Just some clerical work at this point. Changing a few things to do with Mr. Bianchi's last wishes and such... Along with finishing up the payment details and filing them away. Should take me all of perhaps thirty minutes then we could be on our way?"

He waited for her to finish packing her violin and catching up to him before killing the lights to the chapel. The room grew immediately dark, a dim glow from the lit baseboards being the only light in the room. The piano cast an eerie shadow in all it's shaded glory and he grinned at his baby, and his baby to be...

He shut the doors after a moment and locked them in place before he quickly hustled to another side of the lounge area and shut another door, locking it as well. He looked to Jacqueline and grinned, "Mk, this way..." He waved her on again and stepped into his office. A desk with papers strewn all about it sat in the middle of the room. Behind him were two doors. One was open showing a personal restroom for himself, the other was shut tightly and had a padlock on it as well.

He took a seat behind the desk and immediately busied himself with finishing up his paperwork, quickly scribbling things here and there on different pages, before he come to one and he sat back. His lips pursed and he huffed a bit, chewing on the butt of his pen.

"So it says here..." He looked up at Jacqueline, who was still standing awkwardly. With a laugh he held his hand out, "Please sit, you're going to make me nervous just standing there." He smiled again... He smiled a lot. Guess it couldn't be helped with such a dark queen before him.

He returned his gaze to the papers, "So it says that Mr. Bianchi wished to have all of his prized possessions buried with him." He looked up, chewing on the pen again, "I suppose it's good that you weren't one of those things..." He chuckled, albeit a bit dark. "Anyway, there's a list. The keys to that Jonckheere, for one. The keys to a house in Florida as well? Not to mention a lock of your hair, along with a bottle of his oldest wine left, a full bottle of hooch, and a briefcase of his money. What would you prefer we do?"

He looked at her, grinning while chewing on the pen.

Jacqueline shrugged, she had no idea what to do in the situation. Chuckling, Sully leaned forward and began to change things:

"No wiiinnneeee...." he spoke slowly as he wrote it all out.

"Definitely not that fine car, I'll throw a random clay key in the casket for that. I don't think you'd like him to have a lock of your hair..." he paused and looked up to her, noticing the undeniable shiver of revulsion. With a nod he went back to his work.

"That's a no... Annnnd fuck his money, it's your's now anyway." Sully chuckled, "I'll leave him with two coins on his eyes. That should do him more than fine." He continued to write things out beautifully and Jackie half stood as she watched his hands move. The script looked just like the original, minus being different things being written on it, but the penmanship itself was identical. She made a small little 'humph' noise as she nodded in approval. Seemed Sullivan Black was more talented with his hands and fingers than just playing the piano...

He dramatically drew a few swoops of the pen before he dotted his i's and crossed his t's. A chuckling chorus erupted from the office as the two read over everything. It was quite ridiculous, including the rarest of Bianchi's wine being served to Jacqueline in a golden chalice every morning (just for shits and giggles). The cacophony of jovial giddiness that ensued as they left the office and made their way to the Jonckheere was evidence enough that they were suited for one another in their strange way. Surely the two would hit it off wonderfully! Only the future knew what was in store...

Sully and Jacqueline loaded themselves into the car, and she offered him the keys with a grin.

"You should drive it since you're so interested, Mr. Black."

"Oh, do please call me Sullivan or Sully, Madam Messina." He grinned as she turned to face him. "Jacqueline. My name is Jacqueline," she smiled as she turned about three shades of red and looked away through the window of the circular car door.

"Very well Jacqueline, it is a wonderful pleasure, and I'll -gladly- drive you anywhere in this car."

A twist of the key, and a small wait due to the cold, he finally started the Jonckheere and the two pulled away from the funeral home to disappear into the dark Winter's night.