ONE-EYED COFFEE MONSTER

 

He never thought he'd be grateful to wake up in that small room filled to the brim with the scent of coffee every morning above the shop, but after a two-week long assignment with a rather insufferably arrogant CEO and his equally high-and-mighty teenage kids, it was damn nice. Part of him had almost wished he'd been allowed to shoot the kids by the time he came to the end of the job - but he'd have to settle with the fact of the nineteen-year old son going on trial for his father's murder, and the spoiled brat of a 'sweet sixteen' daughter was about to get her entire family fortune ripped away. Frame jobs - they were always a pain in the ass. And took forever, for that matter. When he'd come back to the shop late last night to find the doors weren't decorated with yellow strips that stated 'DO NOT CROSS', he assumed all had went well enough. Not that he'd really expected that - Rayna wasn't that much of a loose cannon.

So after he'd managed to get dressed - yet again looking like he was going to a meeting at some high-end office building even though all he was doing was lounging around today - he grabbed his phone and decided it was high time to check any messages or voice mails he'd missed while he was gone. Even when he'd set up call forwarding to his disposable phone while he'd been on the job, some of the calls would have been way too damn suspicious to take in the company in the presence of his wonderful accommodators. Down the stairs, behind the counter where Rayna was working - to which he greeted her with a halfhearted "Good morning" - and grabbing his own glorious morning beverage and a bagel, he set out to the table in the back of the shop.

Ten minutes to scrolling through mind-numbingly boring messages and replying with something about losing his phone on a trip and he was just about ready to give it up. Half these people, though, were his unknowing information sources - he needed to keep on good terms with them to make sure no one was sniffing out Libertine, or any of the higher-ups in his organization. Hell he even had contact with several rival organizations higher up members - the glories of Libertine being absolutely untraceable back to them, eh? The worst that could happen is they come to find out he was associated with the Russian side of the mafia chain…what were they going to do, send thugs after him? Ha.

There he was, minding his own when he started to hear a vague commotion start to break out. He determinedly ignored it. He wasn't a bouncer - it wasn't his problem. La la la. Keep skimming through the messages. Send another excuse away. Rayna could fix it or it would fix itself. He was taking a well-deserved break, he'd just got home last night. However, his ever-so-wonderful partner decided it was his turn to handle it - as was noted by the fact she called out to him across the room hinting strongly at just that, just as he'd sent away another message. Typical.

With a long-suffering sigh, the redhead got up, moved to the counter, and calmly began to arrange a drink, all while a small brawl was breaking out in the middle of their store. He popped a lid on the finished product, and with an air of calm that caused a few of the astonished customers to stare at him like he'd grown another head, he walked directly for the brawl that was happening this very second. "'Scuse me-" he dodged another hit thrown by the male, and carefully pulled the small female off of him with his free hand, holding the cup of coffee in front of her face "ladies, but this isn't a bar. If I have to break up another fight, I will be calling in a domestic disturbance problem. Clear?"

WORDS!: 675     TAG!: Rayna && Nano     NOTES!: Hope Jess didn't wanna go first…xD

 

"Oh yes it's a wonderful morning." he responded, his tone deadpan, but obviously sarcastic. "Nothing like a good fistfight to start the day." 'And having to threaten to call law enforcement. Not that I would…I can get a whole lore more shit done than they can.' Yes, that was actually his reasoning behind not actually ever having to call the cops - not because he was afraid of them, hell no…they were just useless compared to who they were up against. He took this as his opportunity to be able to walk away, catching sight of several of the very off-put customers when he turned around, making an effort to shoot them a reassuring smile - which luckily seemed to work, as they turned back to their drinks and conversation.

Would be just their luck if they started getting comments from the boss about the dropping income in this place. After all, the shop had been…'acquired' about the same time Rayna was partnered with him, which is what led to them being assigned to run it as a cover. They got a ridiculously slim cut of the profits made here. Just as well, he supposed, considering how much of the pay they got for themselves from the assassination jobs. It all evened out…he guessed. He grabbed one of the morning papers out of the rack they had near the door, flipping it open lazily as he started to head back to his table. By the time he'd reached it, he'd managed to skim to the bottom of the front page, and was highly entertained by a particular article. He grabbed his coffee, and made for the counter, where Rayna was sat.

"Hey Ray…" he stated lazily, leaning against said counter and holding the paper carefully, his thumb positioned to set directly beneath the article that was loudly exclaiming the scandal about a local businessman murdered by his son in a 'failed' attempt to inherit the family's fortune. He smirked lazily at her - it was a game that was played between all of Libertine, most the time. It was a bit depressing when someone who didn't use the same methods as the other couldn't appreciate the effort and finesse some jobs took, though…Lukas always did love a good ego trip from someone else. Even if the last thing he needed was more of an ego.

"So did anything exciting happen while I was on my dad's trip?" he asked her nonchalantly. That was the general excuse - after all, anyone who knew him from the shop knew him as a son of some hotshot who had an international business…and every now and then the redhead half of the shop owners had to disappear on business trips for his father. Any time he'd been questioned for anything (which had only been once, when he'd been much more inexperienced), there was an entirely flawless, fabricated existence of him and his father created. Sometimes, he felt bad for the authorities. Sort of.

WORDS!: 499     TAG!: Rayna && Nano     NOTES!: Don't mind the third wheel…