mimikyu314

"Did you hear about the murder last night?"

"Who hasn't?"

Jimmy dropped into the armchair across from Joel, holding his cup of tea between both hands.

"I always think it a fun challenge to guess who paid the Canary to kill a random civilian," Joel said, eyes locked on the TV as he slouched into his chair.

"How do you know someone paid him?" Jimmy asked skeptically.

Joel hesitated, then shrugged. "Why else would he kill her? I don't think the Canary is the type to randomly kill for the fun of it." Another shrug. "Beans might be, though."

Jimmy couldn't suppress his snort. Joel smirked, finally glancing away from the TV where a censored version of the crime scene from the night before was displayed. Jimmy's stomach turned slightly and he looked away, lifting his cup to his lips.

He could still feel the pull of the bowstring, the wind of the release on his exhale. The Canary may not have been affected by the thunk of the arrow in flesh, the overpowering scent of blood on enhanced senses, the terrified screams, but it put a foul taste in Jimmy's mouth.

"Oh, cheer up, lad," Joel said, reaching for the remote to turn the TV off. "You didn't know her, and your chances of running into the Canary yourself are slim to none."

Jimmy could almost laugh at the irony, but he choked it down and finished his tea instead. "Right," he said, setting his cup on the table beside him and fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Slim."

Joel grinned, canines a little too sharp. "Slim indeed."

~

Jimmy stared at his reflection in his bathroom mirror, hands gripping the edge of the counter. His phone lay face up on the vanity, a message from Beans glaring up at him.

"Got ourselves a prospect. Meeting with client at midnight."

He'd let the Canary play last night. He hadn't thought someone would solicit his services so soon after the last client; he needed to rest. Jimmy needed to stay in his own head for a few days.

But the message from Beans prickled at the back of his mind. As much as Jimmy wanted to rest, he knew he wouldn't be able to with the temptation at his fingertips.

So he blew out a breath, reaching for the mask propped against the mirror and lifting it to his face. His skin itched just below his shoulder blades, feathers blossoming high on his cheekbones.

"Shall we strike a little deal?" he murmured. A cold smile lifted his lips. "I think we shall."

~

"Bit late, aren't you, mate?"

"Sorry, mate," the Canary responded, brushing past Beans and rounding his desk. He settled in his seat, kicking his feet up on the desk and smiling at his companion. "Right. I'm ready. Send 'em in."

Beans grinned, canines elongated and almost too big for his mouth. He ducked out of the office, only to return a moment later with a boy no older than twenty-one in tow. The Canary raised a brow beneath his mask.

They sat in silence for a moment, Beans kicking the door shut with a slam. The boy jumped, glancing nervously over his shoulder at the Canary's companion.

"What are you doing here?" the Canary asked wearily. "A boy like you has no business here."

"I want you to kill someone for me," the boy said, clearly making an attempt to keep his voice even, though there was still a faint tremble in his tone.

"I doubt you could afford it," the Canary replied dismissively.

"Name your price," the boy countered. "I can pay it."

"With daddy's money?" Beans sneered.

The boy blushed; the Canary sighed and named his price. The boy frantically dug around in his pockets and deposited several roles of cash on the desk. Beans instantly snatched them up and began counting while the Canary sized up the boy before him.

He wasn't in the business of asking questions. The boy had paid, no matter if it was his money or not; it belonged to the Canary, now.

Beans nodded after a moment, rolling the money back into tight, neat bundles. The Canary dipped his head in response, turning his attention back to his client.