The Crack Shot and The Mayor, who can’t shoot for shit.
He’d turn up unawares and surprise her, that’s what he’d decided; he couldn’t remember if they’d set a time, so arriving early in the morning would be better than naught. He’d opted for more casual wear today, or as casual as his keen fashion sense allowed him; grey was the theme today, with hints of navy blue thrown in for variety, with any luck she’d notice and see that he did listen to her, sometimes.
He’d pulled up outside her apartment complex within a short amount of time, they really didn’t live that far away at all! In a car anyway. He didn’t really know how these things worked, did he bring his own gun, or was it provided? Nevertheless, he still had a few wrapped up safely in the rear of the car, unnoticeable, leftover from his escapade with Sleuth.
Stepping from the car he basked in the crisp morning freshness of his city, always something he enjoyed on those particularly groggy mornings, it boded well for his already particularly jubilant mood.
Traversing the floors he was stood before her door within a few minutes, swaying happily as he rapped on the framework energetically, and then once more in rapid succession, boy was he eager, and he hadn’t a clue as to why. Regardless, he threw his voice beyond the door offering a third notification of his arrival as he waited impatiently. ‘She’s slow, dawdling, she needs to hurry up’ were the thoughts running through his head, when in actuality only mere seconds had passed, just what was wrong with him this morning?