𝟮𝟮𝟳 𝗠𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 [𝙏𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚]

9. 𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙇𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙂𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙇𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙨

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"You two seem friendlier, sure you didn't go for a quick shag?" Lemon paused momentarily, taking in Nadine's appearance and she slid into the seat opposite him. "Well, either my brother is into some fucked up stuff, or something happened."

"Our newest associate was attacked," Tangerine explained, using the palm of his hand to push Nadine further along the booth so he could situate himself next to her. "By a friend with our property." The three had decided to stay sitting in the booth opposite their original seats, not wanting the harrowing task of sitting next to the corpse of the White Death's son.

"You found the case?" The man in the denim jacket asked excitedly. The noirette sighed.

"I found the guy who had it. Some fucker with a knife attacked him, I intervened, got sliced up, knife guy gets killed and the other bastard knocks me out." She summed up, still annoyed about the affair. She should have taken them out easily, both of them, but her surprise at the situation and a whole lot of luck from the man with the bucket hat had caused the opposite.

"Alright, who are we looking for?" Lemon asked, leaning forwards onto his folded arms.

"Glasses, bucket hat, mousey hair. He looked homeless." She informed him.

"Well that just sounds like every white person I've ever seen." The assassin raised an eyebrow mockingly.

"Hey!" Tangerine interjected. "I don't look homeless, I wear a suit." He reminded the other man indignantly.

"I've voiced my opinion of this suit a lot, you know how I feel." Lemon said, shifting his position. "Who wears a waistcoat in this day and age?"

"Plenty of people. It's a sign of sophistication," He stressed the last word. "You've just got no taste. Nadine likes it."

"Those words have never once left my mouth."

"I thought we were supposed to have each other's backs now!" The brunette scowled, smoothing back his hair. "What the fuck is this?"

"Yeah, if we get our arses handed to us on a plate. Not in trivial matters such as to how classy a waistcoat is." Nadine rubbed at the plaster on her head. The skin underneath was itchy. "It is a bit much, if I had to give an honest opinion."

"Unbelievable!" Tangerine's face split into one of discontent.

"I like her." Lemon pointed in the green-eyed woman's direction. She nodded her head once as a sign of gratitude for the statement.

"Of course you do, she didn't tell you to shut up when you mentioned Thomas." The man in the debated about waistcoat accused.

"You're just pissed she won't stoop low enough to suck your dick-" The sentence was interrupted by the man in denim hissing out a gasp of pain as a formal shoe found its home above Lemon's ankle joint. The brunette smiled unapologetically, venom practically dripping from his eyes with the look he gave him. Nadine watched the interaction with faint amusement. "We're getting off topic." He said quietly, clearly hurting.

"I quite agree," Nadine added. "We need to find this guy before he gets off. I got the impression he was trying to hightail it off this damn train but got stopped by the man with the knife."

"We can split up like before, I take the back, you take the front, and Tangerine takes the middle?" The shorter of the two men suggested, catching on to her proposed plan.

"The fucker took my gun, I don't really wanna go poking around potentially dangerous people unarmed." Nadine replied, trying to figure out the logistics in her head.

"You're with me then," Tangerine entered the conversation as casually as he could muster. "Should stop you getting the shit kicked out of you." He smirked.

"Oh great, a babysitter. Or are you too scared to go along?" Nadine shot back with equal playful verve. The brunette flexed his neck to one side, not wanting to reply and inadvertently cause something volatile to occur.

"If you insist, mate," Lemon shrugged, not really caring either way. "Meet back here when we're done."

"Sure, wish us fuckin' luck!" He muttered sarcastically.

"I'm not wishing you anything." His brother replied. The assassin with the curly hair got up and adjusted the way his jacket hung. He gave the two a look they couldn't quite interpret and started towards the furtherest door.

"Right, darling," Tangerine stepped out from the booth, allowing her to do the same. "Ready for some investigation?"

"Oh believe me, I've got a few words for that bastard, should I see him." The brunette tried his very best not to feel pity for the man. Having been on the receiving end of her blows, he knew the noirette did not hold back. His cheek still stung slightly from when she had brought the back of her hand across it sharply, cracking through the air like a whip.

"How are the battle wounds?" He asked her, tone sarky, but only in regards as to what he called her injuries, not his repressed, genuine concern.

"Stop caring, it doesn't suit you," Nadine replied immediately with a grin, keeping one eye on the overhead luggage racks of their current compartment and the other on her brown-haired companion. "You're suspicious when you're worried."

"Fuck you too then, I guess." He grumbled, letting the silence between them extend and accentuate. Tangerine scoured the car for any sign of the case as they approached the exit. He assumed Lemon had gone all the way to the end without close inspection, so they would work up and meet him in the middle, or back in the third carriage if they somehow missed him. The brunette took note of how Nadine looked at the bags in an opposite order, eyes skimming from right to left, rather than left to right.

"Any sign of it?" She asked, squinting at the label of a silvery briefcase she spotted.

"Nothing. Didn't really expect the guy to just dump it on one of these, it'll be better hidden," Tangerine theorised. "We should check the bathrooms."

"You really do seem to be determined to go into bathrooms with me," Nadine pointed out with a wry smile. "Perhaps Lemon was right about your aversion to me being because I won't give you a blowjob." She commented casually. He felt a familiar hot, uncomfortable sensation creep up the back of his neck.

"Don't listen to my brother, he's a twat who watches kid's TV and then applies it to his job as an assassin." The man held back his exasperation as much as possible.

"I think its endearing how it helps him figure things out."  The noirette frowned, disagreeing with his statement. "He's a lot smarter than you give him credit for."

"Why can't I be the endearing one?" Tangerine complained. Nadine raised an eyebrow as if to say that this was obvious.

"Because your heart is colder than the Arctic-fucking-Circle."

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