#hittertm

Coffee is poured and a mug is placed in front of Samira. The newspaper is set alongside the cream. Constance is nothing if not a creature of meticulous habit. Unsurprising that her hitter sits at her right side reminding her of one night Grace had broken into her apartment complaining about Samira’s less than favorable response to some gunmen.

Grace was hardly a reliable source of information.

Sipping her tea, she leans back and checks her watch. 

“Alana was supposed to be here for the new client.” A grifter was perfect to charm a wounded soul. People seemed to open up to Alana far better than most of the team. “Better to bring you along and put those people skills to the test.” A note of fondness touches her eyes over the rim of her mug. “Just like old times.”

If she’s being honest, Nine is amazed it’s taken so long for Samira to find the bag. She’s actually made it all the way home, settled on the sofa with a mug of cocoa and some cookies by the time her phone rings. She smiles as she picks it up, a smile that must nearly be audible through the line.

@hittertm sent x

Nine glances up from her take-out carton, the plastic fork hovering halfway to her mouth. Should she mention that she stole it from her latest target? Well, intercepted it on it’s way to his home, at least. Bad guys didn’t deserve good food.

Not that that’s what this was. The noodles are crunchy, and Nine is almost certain that the ‘sauce’ is actually just oil. At least it’s hot?

It occurs to her, as she watches Samira wipe the blood from her knife, that a sight like this should probably be more unsettling. Scary, even. Yet she can only watch with an expression of mild curiosity, lingering only for a moment or two before following after the other woman.