Chapter Text
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Jinx walks down the streets of Vienna. The beautiful smell of the rain fills her nostrils, and she stops for a second to admire the view. There's a Magnolia tree a few meters away from her, that she stops to admire upclose.
It's so pretty, so full of flowers and pretty birds hanging out in its branches. Jinx leans in, inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers blooming around her, then takes one of the flowers, placing it prettily in her hair, right above her right ear. She takes a picture of the tree, then of herself, and continues with her walk afterwards.
It's a beautiful spot, the one she's going in. A gorgeous sushi restaurant with exorbitant prices, and a warmth that she misses already. It's one of those snobby places that she's used to eat in, especially after savings sit with hundreds of thousands euros hidden around.
Jinx is wearing a blonde wig, with hair so long and sultry that it almost resembles the real one underneath. Her dress is elegant but still stylish, a beautiful emerald silk thing that fits her figure in the best spots.
She walks to the bar, her makeup minimal, and her dress a bit too short. Her legs are on display, and she's twirling a lock of the blonde hair around her finger. The pink flower sits above her ear, finishing her look.
She's bored, truly, while her gaze flicks toward the man across the room. He's wearing an expensive suit, has those fat silver rings around his fingers, and laughs too loud for the place he's at.
He's one of those idiots who get an inch of money, and now they have to be respected, even though they've never respected anyone in their life.
He has his arm around his girlfriend, a term that shouldn't even be used, since she's someone who couldn't be older than 18. It's a girl who is visibly drugged to the point of delirium, and Jinx feels a bit encouraged to kill this asshole sooner than later. Jinx wants to throw up. Until, at last, he meets her gaze.
He's sleazy, a classic pervert who had never heard the word no.
She watches him get close to her, walking over with a lazy grin and a drunken step on his feet. He tries to be charming, tries to flirt with her, and she's giving him bedroom eyes in return.
“Buy me a drink.” Jinx tells him, lips curving up in a small smirk. She's charming as usual, caressing his arm in a gentle touch. Jinx knows he's into younger girls, so she takes advantage of her youthful appearance to trick him. She's only twenty six, but she knows she looks 18, easily.
It helps with executing her kills so much. Especially the Italian ones.
He gives a curt nod at the bartender, ordering a drink. He leans into her, then, his bad breath against Jinx's face. “You're gorgeous. I could wrap both of my hands around a waist as slim as yours, easily. What's your name?”
Jinx can read between the lines, because he's just fantasizing about choking her to death.
“Amélie.” Jinx replies, leaning close, brushing her fingers across his chest. She can smell his cologne, and her eyes find his, piercing and decisive. She grabs the glass of wine being served for her, and swirls it. She doesn't take a sip, though, because she feels his hand run up her thigh, and it's disgusting. It irks her, it gives her the ick.
Jinx pulls him by the tie, and kisses his neck, sweet nibbles and sensual licks here and there. He grabs her waist like he promised, and Jinx pulls him away from the bar and towards the bathrooms. He lets himself be dragged away, until she's being pinned against the wall by him.
She draps her arms around his neck, and her leg around his hip with ease. He grabs her toned thigh and grinds his hardened cock against her cunt, her dress riding up by his hands.
“Wanna know a secret?” Jinx whispers, leaning towards his ear.
He leaned in, expectant.
Her hand slips down, fingers brushing his thigh like a bug on a leaf. Jinx grabs the pin from her hair, and she moves fast. She cuts a perfect line, as precise as she can, through his suit pants and through his muscles.
Her hairpin, her new toy knife is too sharp for him to detect the cut at first. He doesn't notice it, no, and keeps groping her, until he gets a call.
The ringing brings him out of his daze, and he tries to regain his breath. Then, he picks up the phone, and Jinx walks out of the restaurant in a split of a second. No one around them are wise enough to know what's going on, and to them, Jinx is just a blur of emerald and blonde hair leaving their establishment.
It's when she's long gone that he feels weak, his vision blurry. The person across the phone isn't making any sense, until... Erik collapses, the color drained from his face. And Jinx? She's walking away from the streer, twirling the pin in her hand as she hums to herself.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The clock ticks loud in the Kiramman estate’s master bedroom. It's a cold night, as it's usual for their arranged marriage, without an inch of cuddling or gratifying sex. Caitlyn lays on her side of the bed, silk sheets tucked perfectly around her, staring at her murder book in her hand. The house was silent save for the faint rustle of her husband playing on his X-Box, occasionally yelling insults.
It was always like this.
Caitlyn isn't surprised. Her mother had been adamant in the marriage, but she doesn't enjoy coming home to this. She's going to turn 41 years old in a month, and for once, she wishes her life would be more than just this. Her mother offered her a high position in the Piltover forces, sure, but she didn't want that. She wanted to earn her own place, even if she had to deal with Marcus at work.
“You’re still playing.” Caitlyn murmurs, her voice low, not because she feared waking anyone, but because it felt wrong to disturb the silence that had become the third occupant of their marriage.
“Yes,” Matias replies without looking at her. “You know how Call of Duty gets."
A pause.
"Would you like to join me?" She asks, wary as ever.
“I’d rather not.” Matias says, eyes focused on the TV. "Pero no me rompas las pelotas!"
Her husband would yell like this sometimes. She's learnt enough Spanish to hold a conversation with ease, but she doesn't enjoy him yelling at this hour. He's a noble, wealthy and from a good family. But Caitlyn can't enjoy a single night with him. There's sex, of course, but rarely. And it's as dull as an old knife.
Caitlyn turns to her side, wrapping her cover over her body like so. Her chest aches with a familiar frustration, the kind that isn’t sharp enough to wound, only heavy enough to press. She knows this is her duty—her family had chosen him, she had agreed, and together they made a picture of respectability. That was all that was asked of her.
But gods, was it empty.
“You should rest.” Matias speaks, his tone polite and impersonal; as if he were speaking to a colleague instead of one of the most attractive women in Piltover.
“I will,” she replies.
No arms pulled her closer. No lips sought her skin. No desire hummed between them. Just silence. And the faint buttons of the controller being pressed on frustration.
Caitlyn could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all. Sure, her parents were proud, society approves of this, Caitlynry noble family whispers about how fortunate the Kirammans were to have secured such a stable match for the matriarch of their house. A stable match. Matias Hoffmann is handsome in Caitlynry way, making women swoon in Buenos Aires and the world at the moment. That was the phrase Caitlynryone used. As if marriage were a business transaction, not a beating heart. Not a desire, not a connection between two souls.
But her parents are dead now, and Caitlyn doesn't have an heir yet. And a part of her wants to say fuck it all, and find someone better... Someone who wants her. Truly wants her.
“Buenas noches.” Matias mutters.
“Buenas noches.” she echoes.
Caitlyn feels herself drifting away into a deep slumber, cold and alone.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Paris smells of piss and trash, but Jinx doesn't mind. It's not her favorite place to be, no but it's not as bad as her last apartment in Zaun. The city is gorgeous at this time of the year, with the spring rain wetting her designer boots. Yet, it's home, because pastries are delicious and so are the women.
Jinx walks past a bakery, and her blue eyes fall on the cashier.
A warmth spreads through her body with ease.
The woman is tall, with an elegant flow to her every step. Her eyes are piercing, intimidating to most people. But never Jinx, no. Never. She's got long hair, tied up in a beautiful ponytail, and Jinx's heart is jumping from the excitement. It's an older woman, for sure, around 45 or something. The gray hairs are as charming as her entire body language. She's dressed to impress, and what cements Jinx on the spot is the way her breasts are about to burst inside her shirt.
It's her type, and her body has made a decision before her mind has.
Jinx fixes her hair, suckles on her mint, and enters the place with a confident strut. She looks at the waitress with determination, following her steps like a hawk. Jinx sits on a table near the window, and waits.
“Bonjour,” the woman said in a smooth French accent, wiping her hands on her apron. "À quoi peux-tu servir?" [How can I serve you?]
Jinx doesn't miss a beat. Her eyes are on her, her best charming smile in place. Jinx leans back, confident. "Donnez-moi une tarte au citron meringuée, un expresso et votre numéro, s'il vous plaît." [Give me a lemon meringue pie, an espresso, and your number, please.]
The woman laughs softly, shaking her head. “Quel troublion, mon amor." [What a troublemaker, my love.]
"Mais tu aimes ça, n'est-ce pas? Comment t'appelles-tu, mon chérie?" [But you like it, don't you? What's your name, darling?]
"Victoire." She replies, twirling a strand of hair from her ponytail.
Jinx ends up taking her home. By the time they reach Jinx’s flat, the door barely clicked shut before their laughter turned into kisses. They undress in a hurry, and kiss with a hunger that makes the bed shake beneath them. By the way her slender fingers caress her body, Jinx knows she's down for the best ride of her life. She moans into her ear, wrapping her legs around her waist and enjoying the tongue against her skin.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The precinct is almost empty at this hour. It's almost nine, in a typical rainy day. London is always gloomy, but today the city feels on the edge of winter. Caitlyn is almost done with her report, and her work will be done in half an hour, if she's lucky.
She opens her phone, checking on her notifications. She has a text from Matias, an unfunny meme that she's grown used to receive. She doesn't play league of legends, so she just pretends to understand why it's funny that Miss Fortune is flirting with someone. She gives a heart reaction to it, to avoid ignoring Matias altogether.
Caitlyn tosses her phone to the side, and opens a family-sized bag of chips, that she plans on eating by herself. She's waiting for her shift to be done, so she can go home and finally rest.
Mel walks past her desk, and eyes the bag of chips with keen intensity. She meets Caitlyn's gaze with a daring smirk, and slides her lender fingers over the mahogany wood.
"Don't you dare." Caitlyn warns.
But Mel does not care about empty threats. "Do not stop me, Kiramman."
She reaches just so, leaning over the desk and smiling at Caitlyn. Her left hand reaches into the bag, and she grabs a single chip, golden and crispy. Mel eats it, a crunch echoing through their shared office, and a chewing noise that makes Caitlyn crave for it. All of this, while maintaining eye contact and moaning at the taste of it.
"Did you have to eat it so sultry and alluring?" Caitlyn replies, rolling her eyes as she grabs her own chip, eating it.
"Don't pretend you don't know my ways, darling. This is how I have a wife."
Caitlyn chuckles, fixing her glasses with the hand that's still clean. "Do you have any new cases for me, love?"
Mel leans next to Caitlyn's desk, sitting on the edge as she steals a second chip. She opens her mouth to answer, but she doesn't say anything. She's interrupted by the heavy boots against the concrete floors of the precinct. They both turn, curious to see who's arrived. And their eyes meet the agent's gray ones.
Caitlyn recognizes Grayson, of course. She's seen her before in the precinct. MI6, best of the best.
Grayson doesn't come to work at this time of the night, let alone in such a hurry. Her stern gaze falls on Caitlyn, giving her a nod in acknowledgement. She's accompanied by her partner, Marcus, and she carries a folder in her hands.
"Kiramman. Medarda." Marcus greets them, his voice cold.
"We have a new case." Grayson points out, waving her folder.
"Is it the Zaunite politician and sex trafficker?" Mel asks.
"Precisely." Marcus answers.
They both follow after her, chips being left behind. Grayson keeps talking as the four of them walk down the hallway in a hurry.
"Erik. 56 years old. He's been assassinated in Vienna yesterday afternoon."
They enter the meeting room, and sit down on their seats, opposite of each other. Caitlyn sits next to Mel, and Grayson sits across her, next to Marcus.
Caitlyn watches as Grayson opens her folder, showing them a picture. Caitlyn's eyes analyze it like a hawk. He's ugly, fat and too bald, but what shocks her is the woman sitting next to him. No, that's not a woman...
"That's a teen." Caitlyn points out, disgust on her face. The girl couldn't be older than 18.
"They saw him in a restaurant with his girlfriend, Martina, eating sushi. Somehow, the assassin managed to slice Erik's femoral artery with a blade; which, by the way, neither him or his girlfriend noticed. He bled out in a minute, collapsed on the floor in the middle of a phone call."
Grayson take sout a picture of the body, and she sees it then. His body collapsed on the ground, blood pooling under him. Then, a photo of the autopsy, with the perfect cut to his thigh.
"A woman." Caitlyn mutters under her breath.
"I'm sorry?" Grayson asks, who didn't catch her words.
Caitlyn shakes her head. "Nothing. I apologize. Please continue."
"Right." Grayson nods. "Okay. His girlfriend is the only witness, but she fled the scene. Interpol traced her here to the UK. She was picked up in Hammersmith this morning and needs protection. She's currently still too high to talk, as she's been drugged by him for months. So when she's clear, I need her interrogated. Get a Spanish interpretor for her."
"Was there any CCTV of the murder?" Caitlyn asks.
"No. It was just a blind spot." Marcus denies, shaking his head.
Grayson starts putting her phone and paperwork away.
"Thank you for your time, ladies. The girl is quite traumatized. She’s the only witness. Be kind to her, will you?"
"The meeting is dismissed." Marcus affirms.
Caitlyn watches as Grayson gets up from her seat, followed by Marcus. She clears her throat, eyes determined now.
"I said it was probably a woman."
Grayson stops in her tracks, eyes on Caitlyn's, and she seems interested. She looks tall and mighty under the white lights of the office. But she's not saying anything. So Caitlyn continues.
"Erik was a misogynist and a sex trafficker. Such an ego blinds him from seeing women as equals, so he probably didn't feel in danger around a woman. It's more likely for a man like that to lower their guard around one."
Marcus heads for the door.
"Thank you, Caitlyn." Grayson affirms with a nod. She walks out of the office, and Caitlyn finds herself smiling at the interaction.
She leaves the office, followed by Mel, who's already calling to make sure there's guards protecting the witness. Something about the whole ordeal doesn't make any sense. Caitlyn can't say anything about it, but no CCTV for a murder doesn't make any sense.
Caitlyn sits on her desk, then grabs a few chips, eating them as she eyes the witness's picture in her hands.
"I want to meet that witness. If I'm right-"
Marcus cuts her off. "No. Not your job. Get her secure and get her some clothes and give her some space to recover. Understood?"
Caitlyn gives him a glare, but nods. "Of course, sir."
They head out of the meeting room, and Caitlyn leans towards Mel as they walk back to their office. "I'm telling you, it’s a woman."
Mel giggles, rolling her eyes. "20 quid it's a man."
"You're on." Caitlyn replies.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Jinx walks up to her apartment in Paris, eyes filled with joy. She eyes her elderly neighbor, who's struggling to get down the stairs, carrying her heavy trash bags. It's an old lady, with a limp and messy hair, and Jinx laughs at the sight. She takes out her key, and crouches slightly and taps her knees.
It's like Jinx's encouraging a pet.
"Allez, tu vas y arriver!" [Come on, you can do it!]
"Connasse!" [Asshole.]
The old neighbor groans with the effort as she finally reaches the bottom of the stairs. She walks to the front door, and manages to open them despite the heavy bags in her hands. Meanwhile, Jinx is standing in her spot, amused.
Jinx pouts at her, faking empathy for the elderly woman. "Tu veux de l'aide avec tes sacs?" [Do you want help with your bags?]
The old lady turns to her. "Connasse!" [Asshole!]
When the lady gets out of the building, Jinx gives her a last look. She drops her fake smile, and walks above the building.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Jinx walks in to her apartment, sighing in delight at the sight. She dumps her keys on the bowl near the entrance, and walks into her bathroom. She opens the wardrobe door and places her blonde wig on a wig stand alongside all the others, combing it and adjusting it properly.
She opens the below drawer. There are weapons in there: gun, knives and bullets on one side, shampoo bottles and tampons on the other. She begins taking off her jewelry, and looks at herself in the mirror. Jinx gets naked, changing into more comfortable clothes. She puts on a luxurious lilac robe, and combs her blue hair with her fingers. It's reaching the middle of her back now in length, flowing wonderfully with every step she takes.
She gives herself a look in the mirror, checking for any imperfections on her skin. Jinx takes out he makeup box, and applies powder to her face. It's an excessive amount of it, making her paler than usual. Then, Jinx walks out to the living room, and takes a bottle of pills from the cabinet. She empties the pills on the coffee table, spread out at random. Jinx picks up a bottle of vodka and slouches back onto the couch, trying out different poses of death.
She giggles to herself.
She glances up at the sound of the front door opening, and immediately begins to act like she's dead.
Silco enters the apartment, looking for Jinx as he whistles. He listens to the music then walks through the flat, glancing into the empty bedroom. He enters the living room where he sees Jinx appearing to be lying dead on the sofa.
Silco turns off the radio and looks over at her, frowning. She's looking pale, with pills and alcohol around her.
"Jinx."
No movement or reply and so he steps closer.
"Jinx."
Still nothing.
"I can see you breathing."
He stares at her, leaning into her, waiting. Then, suddenly, Jinx jumps up in a millisecond, screaming loud and clear. She just wants to scare him.
Silco jumps a tiny bit and shouts. "Aaaaaah!"
They both laugh.
"I..."
"I got you." Jinx giggles, poking Silco's shoulder.
"Yes." He sighs in annoyance, dusting off his jacket. "I suppose you did."
"A bit! Admit it! A tiny bit!"
"A tiny bit, yes." He grins at her. "I'm not that scared."
"You weren't scared?" Jinx asks him. "Bullshit."
"No." Silco denies.
"Did you think I was dead?"
"No."
"Would you be sad if I were?"
"Of course." He replies, but his answer is empty.
"Hahahaha! You should've seen your face." She cups his face in her hands, and Silco looks unimpressed. "Got your ass!"
She grins and walks over to the sofa.
"How was Vienna?" Silco asks her.
"It was boring, that's what. He didn't even notice the cut and I left before I could see him die. But the job's done."
"Of course." Silco nods. "Good. That's a good kill, Jinx. Here, they want me to give you this."
Silco takes out a stash of bills. Then, he takes out a smaller stash of bills, placing them both on the table.
"50.000 euros like we promised you. And 10.000 extra."
Jin grabs the cash, counting the bills and giving Silco a raise of her eyebrow. "Did I get a bonus? For being such a good girl?"
Silco nods. "Oh yes, of course. That, and they want you to do another job."
"When?"
"We need you to go to Italy; tomorrow." He hands her a postcard. "All the information is on there."
"Fine. I hope this one is more fun than the Vienna one." Jinx rolls her eyes, putting the money in her pocket and grabbing the postcard. "This is getting boring. You know I like the twitchy deaths the most."
"I'm certain you can have some fun with this guy. Just don't blow anything up, you hear me? I know that's your favorite kill, but it's best to lay low with this one. And hey, Tuscany will be beautiful. Find a handsome Italian to spend the night with."
"Do you want to come with me?" Jinx asks him.
"No." Silco shakes his head. "You're going to have to do this one yourself."
"Can I take someone else then?"
He gives her a look.
"I just want someone to play with." Jinx sighs out, bored. "You know it's fun if someone's with me."
"You play in Tuscany all you can, then. You have my permission. Just no bombs." Silco gets up form his seat, patting Jinx's head like so. "Bye kid."
She shouts after him, watching him leave. "Bye Silco!"
The door closes behind him.
Jinx looks at the pack of money and postcard, raises an eyebrow and sighs in annoyance. She then sits down at her laptop. She studies the postcard, on the front are pictures on Tuscany and on the back is the message:
Miss You
She puts the postcard down on the table and types into her laptop, the code printed on the side of the card:
R008H77102986
Suddenly a stream of information floods the screen. It's an address, a bunch of pictures and his information, including a smiling picture of Cesare Greco and his villa. Jinx stares at the picture of the old man, and whistles at the sight of him.
"Aw. He's a dilf."
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Caitlyn is sitting on her office desk, reviewing some reports and analyzing some information. The night is still young, with the sun barely setting. Mel walks up to her desk, and sits next to Caitlyn with ease. She runs her hand down Caitlyn's arm in greeting, and smiles at her.
"What do you have for me?"
"Ok, so her name is Martina Giordano. She's 18 years old, from Tucumán, Argentina. She's been missing since she was fifteen. And we’ll need two officers on each shift." Caitlyn tells her. "Where is she now?"
"She's still at the Hammersmith station, dove."
"Really? Hammersmith?" Caitlyn replies, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. "Still?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"So she's still there." Caitlyn ponders to herself, giving Mel a look, and then looking at her watch. She's deep in thought.
"Yes. The girl is still drugged, so she's not in good condition for any interrogation. You know this."
Caitlyn sighs, nodding. She leans back on her chair, reading the girl's file and debating. He remind is made before Mel has a chance to say anything else, though.
"Ok. Um... you know I’m gonna, I'm gonna pop down there quick." Caitlyn replies, eyes meeting Mel's in a silent plea.
"Caitlyn." Mel asks, hand on her shoulder. "What are you up to, dove?"
"No reason." Caitlyn replies, smiling at her reassuringly. "Just get those officers assigned to her and I'll sign off. Can you help me with that, darling?"
Caitlyn gets up from the chair, and grabs her coat, putting it on as she looks at Mel. She combs her hair with her fingers, letting it flow down.
"Alright. You owe me 20 quid, by the way."
Caitlyn frowns, turning her head to the side. "What are you blabbering about?"
"20 quid. Marcus said that the CCTV from Vienna turned up. It was a man."
"What? How? Since the meeting this morning?" Caitlyn rubs her hand against her jaw, confused. "How's that even possible?"
"Yeah. Marcus gave us the information."
"No, he said there wasn't any-"
"20 quid, don't be stingy now." Mel teases. "I know we're rich, but still."
Caitlyn frowns, looking into space, worried. If there was no CCTV before, how can there be a video now? Is it because she asked for it?
"Have you seen it?" Caitlyn replies. "The video?"
"Of course not." Mel replies.
"Why not?" Caitlyn rolls her eyes, taking out her purse and giving Mel a 20£ bill. She looks determined, though. "Find me that tape. And please, don't tell Marcus where I am or what I'm doing, darling. You're the best, I love you."
"Oh I know I'm the best." Mel replies, smirking as she leans back on her chair. "My lips are sealed."
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Caitlyn sits in front of Martina, her eyes focused on her lips trying to read them. She's not that good in Spanish, not as good as Matias, no. Next to them, the interpreter sits in a different chair. She's never wrong about a hunch, so she just needs to ask her...
Caitlyn is recording everything with her phone, of course.
Martina moves her head, speaking words Caitlyn can recognize, Caitlynn when she's so high. Then, she gets serious, and speaks.
"Qué se yo, pelotuda... La re concha de tu hermana..." [What do I know, dumbass? Your sister's fuckass cunt... ]
Caitlyn can't stop the small smile on her lips, but she gets serious again. She likes that she understands her enough.
"I'm sorry. She's unintelligible. She's mainly swearing." The interpreter says.
"Oh that's alright, I understand." Caitlyn tells her. "I just need to know if she's aware of anyone who might want to harm her while she’s in the country? Can you ask her that, please?"
"¿Sabes si hay alguien en Inglaterra que te quiera hacer daño?" [Do you know of anyone in England who might want to hurt you?]
Martina starts to sing a song. "Todos yiran y yiran..." [Everyone spins and spins... ]
"Has she mentioned Vienna? Or anything about her boyfriend's killer?" Caitlyn asks the interpreter. Martina blabbers in the background. "Ask her if it was a man or a woman."
"¿Fue un hombre o una mujer?" [Did you see a man or a woman?]
Martina laughs on her spot, spinning on her chair, eyes dilated. "Una mina hegemónica con dos huevos fritos de tetas... Psicópata hija de las re mil putas..." [A hegemonic girl with two fried eggs for tits... A psycho daughter of a thousand whores...]
She sighs. Caitlyn doesn't know Spanish to understand what she means.
Caitlyn sighs, nodding to herself before getting up. She speaks out, with a naturality in her accent that it's almost native. "Anda a dormir, Martina." [Go to sleep, Martina.]
The interpreter looks taken aback, looking at Caitlyn with curiosity. "Oh, you speak Spanish too?"
"Actually, as a matter of fact... My husband is Argentinian. So, you know, I’ve just learned enough to get by through the years, thanks to him and his family." Caitlyn explains. "Thank you for your cooperation. Please tell Edwin that we need to transfer her to the hospital."
"Alright, officer Kiramman."
Caitlyn smiles at Martina, then at the interpreter, before she bows and leaves the place.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Caitlyn enters her house, and the smell of barbecue fills her nostrils. Say what you want about Matias, but his cooking skills were out of this world. She can smell it, "Asado" with his family that she's a bit late for. She takes out her jacket, combs her hair as well as she can, looking at herself in the mirror near the entrance of the mansion. She makes sure she doesn't have any stains, and walks out to the backyard.
His family greets her with loving hugs and kisses, giving her a glass of wine and a couple of empanadas to pre-game for the meat feast coming afterwards. She greets his mother, his siblings and their kids, loving Caitlynryone more than she's Caitlynr loved Matias. She goes to greet him after that, glass of wine in her hands. She tries to kiss his cheek, and he gives her a hug, short and sweet. But empty of any love.
The Kiramman backyard has several tables with everyone talking and joking. There's drinks, a football game that they're watching in Caitlyn's huge TV. She sits next to her sister in law Sofia, a beautiful woman, now 35 years old and married. She's focused on Caitlyn now, and Caitlyn admits she's been one of her best friends throughout the years.
"Mi amor, vení acá." Sofia calls out. She pats the seat next to her, and Caitlyn sits down on the spot with a smile on her lips. "¿Qué tenés?" [My love, come over. What's wrong?]
Caitlyn smiles, sipping on her wine with a hum of her lips. "Hey darling. It's just a case that's stressing me out. Nothing much. How are you doing?"
"Todo bien, me conseguí un trabajo en un restaurante precioso. Le voy a andar cocinando a estrellas, boluda." [All good, I got a job in a beautiful restaurant. I'm going to be cooking for stars, dummy.]
Caitlyn grins proud, raising her glass and clinking it against Sofia's. "Felicitaciones. Te lo mereces, amor." [Congratulations. You deserve it, love.]
Sofia leans on Caitlyn's shoulder, clinking their glasses and drinking a little bit of wine with her. Caitlyn follows her on it, and they both stay in a comfortable silence, as they hear the cheers. Messi has scored.
Caitlyn turns to Sofia, looking a bit shy. "Uh... Can you please help me out with Argentinian Spanish?"
"¡Pero si has mejorado un montón! Claro, claro. ¿Qué querés que te enseñe?" [But you've gotten so much better. Of course, of course. What do you want me to teach you?]
Caitlyn sighs, taking out a tobacco cigar from her purse. She cuts the tip of it, and lights it up. She takes a big smoke from it, before sharing it with Sofia. "I'm having a bit of a problem with understanding slang. Is it okay if I show you a recording? It's... It's a witness that is too high to be understood. She's Argentina. But she mentioned something that I couldn't understand."
Caitlyn takes out her phone, and Sofia keeps smoking the cigar. The air around them is a bit sunny, as sunny as London can be, perfect for the barbecue. She gives Sofia one of her headphones, and plays the recording.
"Va. ¿Te traduzco todo?" [Alright. Do I translate anything?]
Caitlyn shakes her head. "No, it's not necessary. Just the slang she used when I asked if it was a man or a woman who killed her boyfriend. If you can, please."
Sofia stays in silence, and Caitlyn takes the cigar from her giving it a smoke as they listen to the recording. Caitlyn indulges enough, grabbing an empanada and eating it in two big bites.
"Ah... Está drogadisima, no..." [She's quite high, isn't she?]
Caitlyn nods. "Yes. She's a victim of sexual trafficking."
"Ah... Claro. Si, fue una mujer. Que es lo que no entiendes?" [Ah, or course. It was a woman. What is it that you didn't understand?]
"Dos huevos fritos..." Caitlyn replies, trying her best to say it properly. "What does that mean?"
Sofia gives her a look, and laughs. She points to Caitlyn's chest, smirking. "Si yo te digo que tenés dos huevos fritos de tetas, es que no tenés nada de tetas, boluda." [If I say you have two fried eggs for tits, it means you got no tits at all, dummy.]
Caitlyn opens her eyes wide in shock, processing the information. So it was a woman, and a flat-chested one, no less.
"She's saying it was a flat-chested psychopath piece of shit." Sofia says, taking out the earphones from her ears and giving them to Caitlyn. "And a woman."
Caitlyn leans in, giving Sofia a hug, tight enough to crush. "Thanks, my love."
Sofia grins, hugging her back. "De nada, cariño." [You're welcome, darling.]
Caitlyn leans back on her chair, and then Matias comes to her spot, handing her a plate full of barbecue and chumichurri. She's smiling up at him, Caitlynn if his eyes are cold. And she digs in, eating it without a word. He turns around without saying anything, he doesn't need to. Just his presence is cold enough.
But in Sofia's eyes, she can see pity.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Caitlyn is in the kitchen, and she's dialing Mel's phone in a hurry. She's waiting for her to pick up.
"Hey, darling." Mel answers. "Fancy talking to you again so soon. How can I help you?"
Caitlyn smiles. "Hey, dove. Are you still at the office?"
"Yes, why? What do you want from me?"
Caitlyn sighs. "Okay. Can you pull Margit Polsen from the registry? And any other active female assassins under the age of 45. Please."
Caitlyn hears typing over the phone, and Mel hums in her ear. "Ok. Hold on." The details come up on her screen. "Alright, I have her file."
"Alright, tell me. How big are her tits?"
Mel laughs on the other side of the line, sultry as ever. "Caitlyn. I know you're into assassins, but... Have you realized certain aspects about yourself lately? Is this your autistic way of coming out to me?"
Caitlyn rolls her eyes. "Mel, please. Focus."
Mel gives her a sensual laugh, and her voice becomes sultry as usual. "Darling, she's got massive tits. I'm certain they bounce when she walks. They're a juicy pair, and I'm sure her nipples are just as big. Is that turning you on? Is this getting you wet?"
"Thank you. Please stop tormenting me, Mel. Are there any other assassins on file?"
"There are just two more on record; I'm just pulling them up. Erm, Katrina Voltrinski and Wendi Helmsen... They're both dead. What's all this about?"
"Ok, thank you Mel. Oh and don't tell anyone I asked for that. I'll explain it to you over lunch tomorrow. What do you say?"
"Of course. All our hotlines are completely confidential, madam." Mel teases, alluring as usual. "And we can definitely have lunch together. Just don't tell Sevika you're into women now, she might start getting jealous now that I know you're not as straight as I thought."
"Piss off." Caitlyn replies, hanging up.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Jinx speeds through roads of Tuscany on top of a black muscle motorbike. The sun is above her, shining bright as usual, tanning her skin like so. When she parks it, she goes in the shade, and eats a light snack before she gets to work. She grabs a slice of Sicilian bread, smears pesto on it, and a piece of fresh Parmigiano Reggiano. She takes out a pair of binoculars, and looks at the villa while eating.
She looks over at a huge, majestic, stone villa in the distance. A couple of cars kick up dust as they approach it. Between the trees, people are visible in the garden. They're dancing, talking and drinking food. Jinx takes the binoculars down from her eyes and places them in the motorbike seat.
From her bag, she pulls out a hextech weapon, that she's been tinkering with for the past few days. It's adorable.
She starts walking towards the Villa, hiding between the vines.
Jinx darts from the tree-line across the gravel drive, looks up at the high wall and starts to climb the drainpipe. Once at the top, she pulls herself up onto the roof with zero effort, and goes inside the mansion through the door.
Jinx walks down the corridor, glancing down over the balcony at the security guard that stands in the floor below. He doesn't notice her presence, oblivious to it all. She walks off and into one of the rooms. Jinx moves over to the open balcony doors, and looks out at the guests outside. She admires the garden from a distance, the endless guests around the flowers and trees. She admires the big pool, and the big tables with drinks and snacks. A live band plays a joyful song, and the guests dance along.
Jinx narrows her eyes, searching the party guests, until at last, she finds him. Cesare Greco laughs as a few kids attack him with water pistols.
She smiles to herself, and turns around into the room once more. She opens the closet, and sighs in disappointment. She expected someone so rich to have more fashion sense than this but...
"Hey, bambini! Non potete andare lí." [Hey! Not allowed up here kids!]
The guard walks down the corridor, his steps echoing through the hardwood floor. He notices the wardrobe doors in the dressing room are wide open, but he doesn't see anyone in the room. He gives himself a onceover in front of the mirror, and walks away in silence.
The room is left empty. After a moment, one of the suitcases falls on its side. A finger pokes out between the two zips and slowly the case begins to open. Then Jinx unfolds herself out of the case, effortless. She walks out to the balcony again, and Jinx sees Greco in the distance, playing around with a few kids, his grandchildren.
"Nonno." They call. They use water pistols and water balloons, getting him wet from head to toes. It seems he's going to come to her, instead of the opposite.
"Voglio cambiare la ropa. Un momento." [I'm going to change my clothes. One moment.]
Jinx fixes her clothes and hair, making sure she has her croptop in a pretty position. Her abs are in display, while her lower body wears a pair of shorts.
She smirks to herself.
She looks up and smiles when she sees Greco in the doorway of the room, wet and quite surprised. Jinx is laying on his bed, and caressing his covers with intent. Her legs are seducing him already.
"Ma quanto sei bello. Buon anniversario." [How handsome you are. Happy anniversary.]
He looks surprised to see her. He tentatively walks inside his room, eyes meeting Jinx's with a grin. "Buon giorno." [Good afternoon.]
"Buon giorno." She greets back. [Good afternoon.] "É veramente uno scialle magnifico questo. Chi lo ha fatto?" [That is such a beautiful throw. Who made it?]
"Una designer. Liliana Rizzari. Fa solo lavori in seta." [A designer, Liliana Rizzari. She only works with silk.]
Jinx grabs a pen from the bedside table, and writes the name on a paper. Then, she looks up at him, a charming smile on her lips.
"Ti dispiace se chiudo la porta?" [Would you mind if I closed the door?]
Greco looks intrigued, but he nods and closes the door, locking it up. "Ma tu chi sei? Come ti chiami?" [What is your name?]
"Syliviana Morel. Buon anniversario." [Syliviana Morel. Happy anniversary!]
"Tu sei il mio regalo?" [So, are you my gift?]
He smiles. Jinx appreciates him better now that he's getting closer to her. He's not so tall, no. But he's muscular, with a killer jaw and perfect teeth. His gray hair is neat, short and soft. His green eyes are sharp, focused on hers own. She bites her lip.
"Sono stata mandata per te, si." [I have been sent to you, yes.]
He admires her. "Si bellissima." [You’re beautiful.]
Jinx can see his eyes wonder all over her body, and she takes her chance now. She removes her shorts, letting them fall next to her on the bed. She can see his member harden beneath his suit, so she speaks, voice sultry now, as he stands near her on the bed.
"Poverino. Lascia che ti tolga quei vestiti bagnati." [Poor thing. Let me get you out of those wet clothes.]
Jinx slides his jacket off his shoulders while pressing kisses on his neck. He's holding her tight by the waist, and she moans at the grip. He removes his tie and unbuttons his shirt, while Jinx kneels in front of him. She cups his member through the pants he's wearing, and drops his pants underwear with expertise. She gives him a wink, and presses a button on her bracelet to activate the device.
Jinx pushes him on the bed, and smirks. A small device makes his way above his leg, around his ankles. It's a tiny robotic insect, powered by a hextech gemstone and built by her. She lets go of his member, and stops touching him entirely, when the device comes and bites him.
He doesn't have time to react, but he's unable to speak. He writhes in pain, his body jerking and twitching. A blue streak begins to burn him from within, spreading through his body like lightning. His eyes are wide open, terrified and yet unable to yell or ask for help. The electrocution is deadly.
Jinx looks into his eyes, biting her lip and enjoying watching the life leave his eyes with every second. And when he stops moving, she retrieves the hextech device, and blows a kiss at his corpse before leaving through the roof.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Caitlyn is at her desk, the room englobed in a dim light. She has three lamps turned on near her, one of them next to her laptop. In front of her, there's pictures, by the side of her computer are piles of books on psychopathy, female murderers and crime scene photos, all scattered around. She has a few registries opened up in her computer, and she's deep in thought, looking at them with determination.
Her computer screen has "femoral artery" searched on it, as well as the anatomy pictures. She is sat holding a knife against her thigh, the tip of it causing an indentation in her skin.
"¿Querés choripan con queso?"
"Yes, please!" Caitlyn calls out to Matias.
She pulls the knife away from her leg, jolted out of the moment and stares at the blood dribbling from her thigh. She wipes it as she hears Matias enter the office.
"Hey." He greets, peeking over her shoulder. He wears a polite smile, and only a pair of boxers. Caitlyn grabs the wine glass he's carrying, and takes a sip of it. She hums in delight at the taste of it.
When he reads everything, he opens his eyes wide in shock. "Pará, que es eso?"
"That's how a woman murdered a man in Vienna the other day."
"It's so awful-" Matias replies.
"It's so impressive-" Caitlyn says, at the same time. They share a look, and Caitlyn gulps, feeling guilty. "And awful. Yes. Of course."
They fall in a deep silence, and Matias puts a hand on her shoulder. "Dinner is ready."
They both go to the kitchen, and Caitlyn takes a bite, eyes closed at the flavor. "Thank you. This is wonderful."
Caitlyn feels him sitting behind her, and leaning on her back as he eats. She's used to it now, so she just enjoys it.
"How would you kill me? If you could?" Caitlyn asks him while eating.
"Um. I don't know. Push you down the stairs?" Matias replies with a shrug.
"No, seriously. They'd come for you immediately. You have to come up with something better than that." Caitlyn teases.
Matias snorts. "I don't know."
Caitlyn doesn’t look impressed.
"Ok. How would you kill me?" Matias asks her.
"I'd paralyse you with Saxitoxin and suffocate you in your sleep, chop you into the smallest bits I could manage, boil you down, put you in a blender, then take you to work in a flask and flush you down a restaurant toilet."
The words come out confident, serious. She looks into his eyes, and he seems a bit taken aback by what she said.
"You've really thought about that." He comments, biting on his choripan.
"It's smart and efficient." Caitlyn replies.
"Very."
By the time they're back in bed, Caitlyn is freshly showered and Matias is getting out of the shower. She watches him walk around the big bed, dressed in nothing. She looks at him, sighs to herself.
"Do you want to have sex?" She asks. Because it's been a while. Such a long while...
Matias looks at her, and shakes his head. "No, sorry."
Caitlyn leans back onto the bed. "Alright, then."
Caitlyn watches as he starts playing on his phone, while she keeps thinking about the CCTV.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Silco enters Jinx's apartment, and doesn't see her. He walks around the kitchen, the bathroom, until at lasts, he goes to the bedroom. There, on the bed, he sees Jinx on top of the bed, tangled up between two people. A man and a woman.
"Afternoon everybody." Silco greets.
Jinx opens her eyes and sees Silco.
"Do you think you could excuse your guests?"
Jinx's guests get up from the bed in a drunk haze, too hurried up to say goodbye properly. Jinx spanks the girl as they leave the bed, and smirks at the guy. Then she waves at Silco.
"Au revoir." [Goodbye.]
Silco goes out of the room to give them privacy, and Jinx begins to get dressed. She finishes buttoning up her shirt, and puts on a pair of shorts before getting out. She then looks over at Silco, who's waiting for her by the kitchen counter.
"Three days ago, one of Zaun's most controversial politician was found professionally murdered in a pretty street in Vienna. Very good."
Jinx smiles in pride.
"The murder took place in a CCTV blind spot. Also good. The politician's girlfriend was reportedly with him while he died. Fine. And was not harmed. Not so good. She is currently in London, where she will be interviewed as a principle witness to the murder. Bad. Which will take place tomorrow. Very bad."
Jinx studies him in silence, eyeing him up and down. "Have you had a haircut?"
He deadpans her. "Yes."
"Hmm. Looks good."
Silco walks up to Jinx, and hands her a ticket. "Your train leaves in an hour. So keep the job tidy, and discreet. Your electricity kill is all over the press."
"I loved it, it was so nice watching him twitch and twitch as he died... I'm going to use that one another time." Jinx grins, sounding excited.
"It's not funny." Silco rolls his eyes.
Jinx smiles at him. "It was a bit."
Silco is not amused.
"They won’t catch me." Jinx reassures him with a confident smirk.
"They might." Silco sighs in annoyance, as Jinx hugs him.
"They won't."
"No listen, they might." He tells her, while pushing her away.
She imitates his voice. "They won't."
Silco doesn’t look impressed. "Make it look like suicide, will you?"
Jinx sighs in annoyance. "First class?"
Silco holds up her ticket and a London postcard.
"As always."
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Caitlyn sits across the table, with Mel sitting in front of her. They're in a lovely restaurant, eating a lovely dinner, with lovely music in the background. They're eating lunch and Mel toasts before diving in.
"So... How's Matias doing?" Mel asks.
"He's well." Caitlyn replies, taking a piece of her chicken and eating it. "Same as usual."
"Ok. Is that what you've been wanting to talk about? Or do you want to talk about your sudden sexual interest in women?"
"I don't want to talk about Matias." Caitlyn denies with a shake of her head. "He's the same as always. Cold."
"Alright then. Let's talk about why you're asking me for an assassin's tits size. Are you a lesbian, Caitlyn?"
Caitlyn rolls her eyes, and takes a sip from her wine before starting to talk. "Fine. The Zaunite politician assassin was a woman."
"Caitlyn..." Mel begins sounding worried. "What are you talking about?"
Caitlyn slides her fingers through her hair, frustrated. "I interviewed the witness and she confirmed it."
"Isn't she high, Caitlyn?" Mel replies. "I know you're always right about your hunches, but that girl is under the influence of powerful drugs."
Caitlyn shakes her head. "I'm telling you, Mel. Besides, don't you think this is suspicious? There wasn't any CCTV until after I suggested it might be a woman."
"Did you just say you 'interviewed the witness, by the way?" Mel asks. "Caitlyn. Is that why you went to station yesterday? Didn't Marcus tell you not to?"
Caitlyn sighs, eating her chicken. "Look, she described the killer as a psychopath with no tits. I am certain of this. I recorded the interview and asked Sofia, okay?"
Mel sighs, looking worried. "Darling. Won't this get you in trouble with Marcus? You know how dumb he is."
"Mel, I beg you. Nothing ever happens. And see, now this woman is happening and either someone is stopping it from coming out or someone is too lazy to follow it up."
"Okay... It's a bit weird, yes." Mel admits. "But do you think Marcus is covering it up?"
"I don't know, maybe. Or maybe it's a higher up." Caitlyn replies, but she hands Mel a crime scene picture. "This is Cesare Greco. Look at this... Electrocuted and no one saw or heard anything? Naked in his bed, with his cock still hard? This woman is prolific, an expert, Mel."
"Caitlyn. We don't know if that was the same woman, first of all."
"I’ve been compiling these cases for months, Mel. I'm not crazy. Tuscany yesterday... Martina is the only lead we have and tomorrow morning she's someone else's witness."
"Yes and they’ll interview her and find it all out for themselves." Mel replies. "Why don't you leave it to the cops, darling?"
"What if they're in on it?"
"In on what?" Mel sighs. "Caitlyn..."
"I don't know. I just think, it's odd."
"Our job is odd, but it's also boring. Look, Caitlyn. I feel like this is just a big coincidence."
Caitlyn sighs. "Whatever."
"Go to the hospital. Make sure your witness is cozy and safe. Then go home and don’t do anything weird." Mel tells her.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Caitlyn walks through the halls of the hospital, feeling chills at the sinister energy of it. It's all sterile, cold and smelling of chemicals that she hates. She greets the police officer and shows him her badge, before she greets the nurse at the desk.
When she's allowed through, she goes towards the end of the hall. She sees a nurse, who happily tells her to wait before she can talk to Martina.
Caitlyn nods, and decides to go to the bathroom in the meantime.
Her boots echo across the granite floors with every step she takes. The bathroom smells clean enough, and she looks at her reflection in the mirror.
Caitlyn then hears the bathroom flush, and the door opens. From the mirror, Caitlyn can see her. A thin nurse, short and petite, walks towards the sink next to where Caitlyn stands.
Her eyes meet short red hair. She sees a woman with cat-like eyes, cerulean and wide in alert, deer-like. Her hair is cut in a perfect shape above her shoulders, so silky and smooth that it catches her eye. She's wearing a nurse uniform and her shirt hugging her figure is tight, showing off show slim she is.
The mystery woman fixes her hair in front of the mirror, and Caitlyn feels her breath hitch at the sight of her.
Caitlyn can feel the nurse's eyes on her, but she doesn't say anything.
The girl has sharp features. Her face is all bones and angles, but somehow it works in her favor, like a handsome way of being pretty. The nurses eyes are unsettling. Wide, too wide, and so alive. They shouldn’t be beautiful. Yet they are. They're so beautiful, a big pair of doe eyes that look at Caitlyn as if she's an angel. She's got cherry red hair, messy.
Caitlyn turns to her, and the girl adverts her gaze from Caitlyn's intense eyes. She begins washing her hands, and doesn't say anything. No. But Caitlyn can see her thinking, trying to speak and yet not saying anything. But Caitlyn knows that look.
It's the look of lust.
"Can I help you?" She asks, but to no avail, the girl doesn't say anything. So Caitlyn doesn't pry.
Caitlyn takes off her jacket, leaving her in just a button up white shirt and the ID hanging from her neck.
Caitlyn plays around with her shirt, undoing a couple of buttons and then combing her hair through with her fingers.
Caitlyn plays with her hair, and tries to put it in a ponytail. The nurse behind her looks at her, still enchanted by Caitlyn, somehow. And then, the most beautiful voice speaks out loud.
"Wear the ponytail." She says, at Caitlyn. Then, she leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
Caitlyn looks at the nurse, and when she's gone she looks at her reflection in the mirror. And careful as ever, she ties her midnight blue hair up in a messy ponytail, proud of how attractive she looks in it.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Caitlyn sits on the toilet, when she gets a call from Mel.
"Hello, darling." She greets her.
"Where are you?" Mel asks.
"On the toilet, I'm afraid you've caught me at the wrong time."
"There was no CCTV." Mel sighs.
"What?" Caitlyn exclaims. "What do you mean?"
"It’s annoying me, but you were right. We’ve been lied to, darling. And this smells bad any way you look at it."
Caitlyn sighs. "What?"
"Keep that girl safe." Mel tells her.
"Will do." Caitlyn hangs up the phone.
Caitlyn finishes her business, washes her hands and gets back outside. When she walks around the floor, she doesn't see a single nurse, let alone the receptionist.
She turns the corner. At the end of the corridor she sees two bodies laying on the floor outside Martina's room. Caitlyn feels like her chest is about to explode, and all she can do is call 999.
She hurries over to the doorway and looks into the room. The other police officer lays dead on the floor, her white shirt soaked in red blood.
Caitlyn looks at Martina on the hospital bed, and cries. The nurse's body is propped up against the wall, a huge blood stain on her shirt over her heart. Caitlyn holds the girl's hand on her own, and whispers 'it's okay' to her. Until the machine beeps loud announcing her death.
The 999 call goes through.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Caitlyn sits on the interrogation room, Mel sits next to her in silence. Caitlyn cries, sobbing in silence, while Mel holds her in her arms.
"If they fire you, you better drag me down with you." Mel jokes.
"Don't. Please."
Mel nods pressing a kiss on Caitlyn's forehead. "Alright, darling. I'm here with you."
She takes her hand and squeezes it. That's when Marcus decides to enter the room, followed by Grayson. Caitlyn sits back straight, and dries her tears as much as she can.
"Have you made your statement?" Marcus asks, voice cold.
Caitlyn nods.
"Well, that one could have gone better. I don't want to say you only had one job, but..." Marcus laughs, ironic.
"Oh piss off, Marcus!" Caitlyn replies, louder than usual. "People were killed, and you're making jokes?"
Grayson raises her eyebrow. Marcus looks shocked at the outburst, considering Caitlyn is always calm and collected.
"Do you think that's the proper way to address me, Kiramman?"
"Can you just tell me what I need to do?" Caitlyn snaps.
Marcus looks mad, but doesn't act on it. "From what I’ve managed to gather, you have conducted an illegal investigation; you’ve manipulated a witness and-"
"Oh, please." Mel rolls her eyes. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Don't interrupt me, Medarda. I don't care who your mothers are. Caitlyn, you failed in your actual job, no doubt because you were so busy executing your pretend job, which I believe, was going to earn you twenty quid. And which you both seem to think is the most important thing about this case."
"No. The most important thing is that I was right about the fact that-"
Marcus interrupts her. "No, no the most important thing is that four people are dead and it's all your fault, officer Kiramman."
The silence in the room is thick, full of anger and hostility.
"What were you right about?" Grayson asks, curious and calculated in her tone of voice.
"Martina described the killer as ‘una Mina hegemonica con dos huevos fritos de tetas’, which means flat-chested woman in Argentina."
"How do you know that?" Marcus asks her, voice cold.
"Because I secretly recorded the interview and brought it home and asked my husband's sister to translate it for me!"
Marcus hits the table with decisive force. "That's enough. You're fired."
Caitlyn frowns. "And you're a cunt."
Mel intervenes then, calling Caitlyn out. "Hey!"
Marcus looks grateful. "Thank you, Mel. I'm glad one of you respects me."
"No, I was the one who was going to call you a cunt." Mel clarifies.
Marcus is red from anger, or embarrassment, or both.
"Clearly there’s going to be some reshuffling in your department." Grayson says, amused.
"Both of you leave, immediately. Your things will be mailed to you."
Caitlyn and Mel get up from her seat, and look at him with a deadly glare.
"Just to be clear. I'm fired?"
"You're fired." Marcus clarifies in annoyance.
"Excellent, thank you."
Caitlyn and Mel leave the room, and Grayson says nothing.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Caitlyn and Matias are laying on the couch, cuddled up with each other and watching TV.
The doorbell buzzes, and Caitlyn gets up to get the door. When she checks through the peephole, she sees Grayson standing here. Caitlyn frowns to herself, wondering if she did something wrong. She opens the door, and her eyes meet Grayson's in a silent conversation.
"Kiramman." Grayson greets, standing there with her hands on her pockets.
"Hello." Caitlyn greets, awkward.
"Is there anything you need at the shop?" Grayson asks.
Caitlyn frowns in confusion, not understanding what Grayson means. "What?"
"Milk, bread?"
Caitlyn is standing there, confused.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Caitlyn and Grayson walk down the street towards the corner shop, both of them in an awkward silence.
"Married?" She asks Caitlyn.
"Yes. You?"
Grayson smirks. "A few times, yes."
They walk down an aisle in the shop, and Caitlyn is very lost. Caitlyn is confused. Grayson is calm. Controlled. Cold.
Caitlyn shivers, and begins speaking, nervous as she is. "Okay. We're here. Do you want some milk, officer?"
Grayson leans against one of the fridges, and looks at Caitlyn into her eyes. "We think she's been operating for two years. Across ten countries. She's highly skilled, as yet untraceable and frankly, she's starting to show off."
Caitlyn's eyes widen. She can't believe what she's hearing. She's dead silent.
"When you're feeling perkier, I'd like to buy you breakfast at the Purple Penguin restaurant by Charing Cross."
Caitlyn just looks at her, dumbfoed.
"Thursday. 9am. I'll wait for 10 minutes."
Caitlyn nods, still shocked.
"Right. Buy some milk." Grayson says, amused by Caitlyn. She nods towards them.
"Oh. Right." Caitlyn gulps, leaning towards the refrigerator and grabbing the milk.
"Or he'll think you're having an affair." Grayson jokes.
"Oh, I don’t think he’d believe that." Caitlyn denies.
"They all think we're having affairs before they think we're secret agents." Grayson shrugs. She starts to leave.
"Oh no, I think Matias would assume I was an agent before ever thinking that I was having an affair." Caitlyn clarifies, nervous.
"You might want to make him think that you're having an affair, then." Grayson replies.
Caitlyn looks shocked.
Grayson smiles at her. "Hope to see you this Thursday."
She exits the store, and Caitlyn stares at the milk in her hand, still too shocked to say anything.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Jinx takes a cloth out of a box.
It's a new throw; identical to the one in Cesare Grecco's bedroom. She throws it over her bed, touches the fabric then flops down on the bed, smiling wide and rejoicing in how soft it is.
She lies there for a moment, and then reaches for the new postcard from her bedside table. She gives it a good look, turns it around to read the message. On the front is a picture of Bulgaria.
Her next hit.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆