#this is technically w

Will had refused, as soon as he’d grown old enough, to be a part of the Mafia.

He’d known he wasn’t cut out for it, and his family had known too, despite the blood of so many murderers running through his veins the younger of the Cipher twins had never ever claimed to be anything other than peaceable, a quality that wasn’t welcome in the not-so-subtle underworld of the huge city he called home.

At some point it had been decided that Will was untrainable and needed to be removed from the equation, and yet the natural ties of affection that might run through even the bloodiest of families had spared his life, and he’d been given a small business in a nice section of the city and told to make do.

And he did, and not only that but thrived. William loved the little flower shop he headed, doted over each and every aspect of the job with a tender devotedness that he never would have found in the morally questionable life of a mafioso.

Baby’s breath and roses were far less likely to kill him, after all.

Oh, it wasn’t to say he wasn’t touched by the whole organization, nobody in the city and probably elsewhere was, but he’d been lucky enough to witness only one or two of the gruesome things that resulted from the greed of his species, the rumors and names that flew about in hushed tones in side-rooms and speakeasies- names of some who’d died and some who’d killed, and he’d heard, more often than not, the name Cipher listed among the latter two…and in later years, another, the Gleefuls.

He’d heard his brother speak once or twice of the family as they’d risen to power from seemingly nowhere, and it had never been good. Cowards, he’d called them, a bunch of fake-ritzy bluenoses hiding behind silver gilt gates of the east end. Ignoring, of course, the fact that Bill had quite a high social status himself- at least on papers.

Bill tended to exaggerate his stories a little, but his brother had learned to watch out for the name anyway, though he was lucky enough not to run into anyone of the powerful family himself.

It hadn’t ever really been something he’d concerned himself with, though. Will was perfectly content to work his little flower shop, and while he loved seeing his brother, he could never really seem to relax when Bill showed up with his odd looking packages and stacks of sealed papers and talk of underground war, often only needing a place to lay low for a while until he could get back to ‘work’.

And for at least a few days after every visit, he couldn’t help but be a little nervous, watching the street-sides as he walked and carefully scrutinizing the faces of each new customer that opened the shop’s front door to look for any trace of ill-will or worse, recognition. He tried, hard, to be careful.

So it really shouldn’t have come as such a surprise when he finally was confronted– but then, Will was never on his alert this early in the morning, still busy tending the rows of bright, cheery blossoms and humming a little tune to himself as he worked, still a little sleepy from post-wake up haze, and he didn’t turn around immediately when the door opened behind him.

That was a mistake, because if he had he might have had a chance to realize what was going on before there was a gun pointed into his face.

“Good morning! I’m gonna need you to stick 'em up, sweetheart,” He heard the almost sickly sweet voice, turning his head slightly with a soft smile already in place- that froze when he saw the bright silver revolver, and the intimidating bunch who had crowded into his store with frighteningly silent rapidity.

Will let out an ungainly, high pitched squeak in response, stumbling backwards a bit, flinching as he knocked over a pot and it crashed to the floor behind him- to say he was surprised would have been a gross understatement, he was positively petrified.

But the owner of the voice, a finely dressed young lady, only laughed. The weapon in her hand was unwavering as she advanced on him, “Why so startled, darling? You really should have seen this coming, ya know,” She chirped out, “Now do what I said 'less you want some daylight through the skull. Now be a dear and get behind the counter.”

Will was hardly able to hear the order through the rushing in his ears, but he took the cue and did as told, slipping behind the shop’s little service counter and keeping his trembling hands raised a little.

There were five of them, he counted, his assailant and three other obviously armed men in pinstripe and bowlers, and a respectable looking young man who seemed almost out of place in the bunch, though it was made less so by the resemblance and similar navy blue garb he shared with the female ne'er do well. Cyan eyes seemed to follow every move Will made, though nothing else in his appearance would suggest hostility as he simply watched.

The Cipher had other things to worry about at the moment, however, and his eyes snapped back to the woman as she spoke smilingly, at a terrifying ease with one finger tightening against the trigger, “I won’t waste your time. You know what we want. Where is it.”

Will shook his head quickly, besides very much not knowing what she was talking about, he was just beginning to gain his voice back, “What are you doing–!?” He managed, the soft, panicked whisper only to elicit another laugh.

“You really wanna play this game with me, sweetie? Look, I don’t got a lot of patience to go round, so unless you really want me to pull the trigger…”

Will hardly dared move, hardly dared breathe, through his hands were already trembling violently as he tore his gaze away from the glinting metal barrel of the gun, up to its smug looking owner. He shook his head mutely, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

“That’s what I thought. Now where’s the back door? I think we’ll just take a look around here.”

He felt as if he was going to faint, numb with shock, mind barely processing the question until the girl leaned forwards with a suddenly dangerous expression, “Hey! Patience ain’t my strong suit, mister. I asked you a question.”

Will’s whimper was barely audible, feeling the cold steel muzzle to his forehead and the faint, harsh smell of gunpowder clouding his senses. He just barely remembered not to flinch away and pointed a shaking finger in the direction of his apartment door, sucking in a gasp of relief when the gun was removed from his line of sight.

“Swell,” The young woman purred, giving a few signals, and turning away. “I’ll be back in a few, then!”

Will watched helplessly as she disappeared down the aisle, followed by one or two of the group’s men, but he forced himself to calm at least a little, sucking in a few deep breaths.

He glanced back to the other ones, who had been left to watch him, no doubt. Or more specifically, the gentlemanly one, the woman’s brother, he assumed if appearance was anything to go by. The man was still staring at him.

He couldn’t think too much of that, though, preoccupied with worrying over what might be going on upstairs. Were they going to ruin his cozy little apartment? What did they want, what could he possibly have that they would want??

What if Bill had hidden something here without telling him, Will almost felt sick to wonder? He wouldn’t doubt for a second it was something his hot-blooded twin would pull.

“You would do well to keep your hands where I can see them.”

Will startled at the glint of silver that showed as the man’s caplet parted for a few seconds, realizing he’d let his hands drop to his sides. He raised them again quickly, “S-sorry,” He muttered, noticing immediately the cultured accent to his words, and watching wide eyed as the other moved forwards, until he was stopped by the wooden barrier.

“You can rest them on the counter,” The brunette added flatly, and Will was quick to comply, something in the tone and glint in bright blue eyes telling him it was not a suggestion or a relent.

He was too frightened to speak and so he didn’t, eyes locked with the other’s until he couldn’t bear it anymore and looked away.

“Apologies for my sister- I told her it would be best to take a more subtle approach. You have a nice shop.”

“What?” Will glanced up with a disbelieving look. Had this mafioso just apologized for robbing him? And then given him a compliment??

“You’re welcome. Quite a lovely assortment of flowers, especially for this time of year,” The man continued, gesturing around him with a tiny smile. “What’s your name?”

Will was silent, at a loss for how to respond, brain stuttering from stress and everything he had to process, and he finally managed out, “Ph..philip. Garcia…a-and you are?”

It was what Bill had told him to say, the pseudonym that would keep him safe from getting caught up in the danger of the Mafia- the name he ran his shop under, though he’d ever enjoyed that.

A flash of amusement ran through the other’s features, “Hmm…call me Dipper.”

He let it fall into silence, staring at the shorter male until Will seemed inclined to speak again, “Why are you introducing yourself??”

Will waited for an answer, growing more uneasy the longer he didn’t get one, “Wh-hy are you here? What are you trying to do…you c-can’t get away with this- you won’t.”

Dipper chuckled, “Are you really sure of that? I wouldn’t be, were I you.”

Will gulped slightly, “Th-the police-”

“Are conveniently busy elsewhere and will not be at your disposal for some time,” The criminal interjected smoothly, but through the lighthearted tone, the first signs of hostility showed. “Do you really think they’ll be any help to you at all? You don’t recognize us, then?”

Will swallowed thickly, glancing out the store windows as if searching for help that wasn’t there. “No, why would I…” He muttered quietly, scrambling for words that wouldn’t betray his fear, “B-but others will help me. I-I have friends-”

“Really? That’s quite interesting to hear. Friends in the mafia, no doubt,” Dipper finally glanced away, eyes sweeping over the lovingly arranged displays and briefly to the windows, “Where you you get your stock from, I must wonder? They must have been grown indoors to even be in bloom.”

“I…I-I don’t…” He trailed off, brows knitting together in utter confusion, resisting the urge to reach out and protest as the man took a single sprig of coltsfoot from a larger bouquet, the tiny yellow petals gleaming gold against the silk navy vest, twirling the stem gently between his fingers as he glanced back at the other.

The mirth dropped out of the man’s face and he stepped off to the side as if about to come behind the counter, adding out of the blue, “You’re not used to lying, are you, Mr. Cipher?”

Will blanched, forgetting to try and look brave as he took a tiny step back, “I-I’m not—how-”

“Deduction,” Dipper said simply, “I know what I see and I know what I know. And I know that you look very much like someone I’ve had the displeasure of meeting already.”

Will found he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing aloud- what had Bill done?

“I’m not him,” Will blurted out, “I’m not wh-who you’re looking for…”

“Wrong. You’re exactly who I’m looking for.”

“Wh-what?”

But he had little time to puzzle, jumping as the unnamed girl reappeared, looking, if it were at all possible, even more smug than she had before.

“It was in his bathroom. Quite cleverly hidden, actually,” She grinned, sending a malicious giggle his way as she addressed the other brunet.

And suddenly it seemed to Will that he wasn’t in as much danger, as they appeared to be preparing to leave. A hand gesture had the rest of the men filing out of his door, and he watched, expression still mildly stunned.

Dipper nodded, “Very good- I thought you would be able…” The mafioso’s voice was neutral, even as he lauded his sister, “I’ve spoken with him. He’s a bystander, as I suspected. No need for extra measures.”

“Good. He won’t be a problem, then?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed at the neutral response she gained, and she turned of the other again, filling Will with dread again as she pointed her pistol, “You. Tell the cops if ya want, but don’t you go and be surprised if it doesn’t help. And if anyone else comes asking questions, we didn’t take anything. Understand?”

“Y-yes…” Will nodded quickly, well aware that he wasn’t really in a position to argue, and relaxed a little when she seemed satisfied, turning away to the door.

“Good, cause we’d know either way, bet on it,” The girl chuckled grimly, door creaking as she opened it- but didn’t pass through. She was waiting for Dipper, the man having reached into his trouser pocket.

A small card emerged along with his hand, and Will watched with a cautious curiosity as it was slipped onto the counter.

“Be careful with that. If anyone does come poking around, it would be in both our best interests for you to ring. Trust me.”

No further explanation was given, only the same lingering stare, before Dipper turned away, letting his sister slip her arm into his and pull him out the door without a backwards glance, the two briefly visible in the display windows before they disappeared from sight.

Will was still for a full minute after that, staring after them and glancing around his little store once or twice as if he wanted to make sure everyone was really gone. He pulled in a huge breath of relief and reached for the card, grabbing it and sliding to the floor to calm his frayed nerves.

The back of the card was what he saw first, and it was a telephone address, a single line of numbers written in small, neat hand. He turned it over and let his eyes grow round.

'Gleeful Enterprises’, embossed with silver into the rich blue paper, with the family’s crest stamped into it, off to one side.

Will bit his lip and stood back up, then stumbled out from behind the counter to race upstairs.

He had a horrible feeling that this wasn’t nearly the end of the matter.

But for now, he needed to find Bill.

~~~~~

The twins were silent as they headed back to their car, eyes sharp and on the watch for enemies until they were safely inside, and the vehicle was pulling away from the curb.

“Well, that went absolutely wonderful.”

Mabel was, as usual, the one to strike up conversation as they settled down into the leather-lined cab. Dipper only glanced at her, eyes mostly still fastened onto the shop’s front door until it was far behind them.

“You were marvellous, sister dear,” He praised, with an approving smile as his sister produced a small parcel of letters tied with a string, “Mm-hm,” Mabel grinned triumphantly, handing it over the Gleeful boy, who slipped it into his pocket without looking through it.

“Now I get the rest of the day off- celebrate with me?” Her question was halfway a taunt, because she already knew the answer, and smirked as it was spoken,

“I don’t think I’ll have time,” Dipper’s nose wrinkled at the thought of spending a night in one of the speakeasy’s his sister was fond of attending, “Uncle asked me to take care of an employee who’s been asking questions.”

Mabel gave a light huff, “When do you, gotta ask? You’re telling me you’ll spend the entire night working on that? Pull the trigger and they’re out, problem solved.”

“I’ll have a bit of research to conduct as well. You should know I’ll be setting a few boys on the florist’s place.”

Mabel turned in her seat, regarding her brother with inquisitive skepticism, “Why?”

“Did you think I would have suspected that shop without a reason? Think back to his features and tell me who he reminds you o-”

“Golly,” Mabel breathed, eyes widening for a moment before a smooth smirk slid into her expression, “Now that you mention it…”

“I want to watch him. Closely,” Dipper explained, with an air of industrial indifference.

He didn’t think he would have minded telling her there were other reasons, he’d learned to bear Mabel’s merciless teasing after so long, and she no doubt would have been thrilled to know that she wasn’t the only alone in her legally questionable romantic tendencies…

But he wanted Will to himself for a while, wanted to see what the little florist was made of and what made him special.

“He could be useful to us.”

“I’ll bet. What a patsy,” Mabel snickered a little, “Big brother probably doesn’t tell him a whole lot about the family business, though.”

Dipper hummed, and turned his eyes to the road ahead, sharp eyes flicking over the crowds of people on the street sides, in the cars, bustling in and out of shops or enjoying midday coffee and the editorials- ever alert for the enemy.