A Tour Down New York (Adam X Jill)

Unmarked Friends With Benefits

This was perfect. Drop by sleep. Zip away. Until things got complicated. Jensen received another call. It was none other than Jill. She was stuck at work the usual. 'Jensen we have hostiles at a protest'.  A couple of bozos at front causing trouble. Jensen jetted his car there. His car hitting the first guy a mile off. Getting out an apparent 'who da fuck are you' was heard his arm manipulated his face into the car's hood. Jensen beat these guys relentlessly. Then his arm blade slunk out reflecting off his shades. No one wanted beef after that one.

Suddenly he found it was all a ploy to divert time away from a bomb. Being the man he was he reached in his cell and defused it. A couple of more odd jobs and Jensen was booming with money.

He had afforded a Lambo. Things were quite heavenly up here on his roofing. Things seemed bliss. But nothing lasts forever. Not even forever. Things will end. All will end horribly one day. He smoked his cigarette and looked up at the stars and moon itself. Minuscule. Soon he'd be alone as things always had it. But one could dream and only dream. He remembered the stories his father used to tell him about black holes. They would destroy everything in existence including themselves and that would be the end. And beginning. They'd implode shooting another big bang. But that was irrelevant. What mattered was Valentine.

Heading to her studio apartment. He saw a man there. Chris Redfield. He had been shooting texts. Undesirable invitations to his home. And more. Valentine swung the door open seeing Chris.

"Chri-Chris?" Valentine asked.

"Sir, pardon me but we have to get to a royal ball." Jensen put it quite frank.

Chris laid there crying and bobbing back and forth to himself.

The party was acutely unwelcoming to Jensen. All un-augs. The waiter seemed easy to ploy against. But alas this was a party not some crack den where things usually got nil with statuses of health. The waiter seemed disgusted to his stomach by Jensen but Jensen had been accustomed to many stares of the such.

The waiter threw them a simple denial of reservation.

"I work for a very charitable man. What I do is I hurt people. Not just hurt them but end them. I'm seen as many things and as a hero to the naive. Let us through." Jensen swinging him a bill of quite some considerable money.

"I'm afraid not sir. No augmented men." The man said.

Poor attempt at passing as a hero. Go the liar route.

"I'm friends with the owner Johnson. Here we are." Jensen having prepared a photo shopped image.

Being led by the skin of their teeth through stares and chants they had sat down. Things were great. Her grin was priceless. Everything seemed timeless. Jensen's sensibility knew she could used this. Their lips locked and they left the exchange feeling grand. Until he could feel the stares on him. Leave it to military training to leave you broken and antsy to the putrid hate around you that could swallow you whole. 

"So what's up with the whole sunglasses thing?" Valentine inquired so interested while holding the side of her face.

"It's for augmentation purposes. Allows me to see key points in the environment." Jensen answered.

"Am I a key point in the environment?" Valentine asking quite frank.

Just then a bullet rang out into the crowd shooting Valentine. Her stomach bleeding more than ever should. Desirable women like Valentine shouldn't ever bleed. She laid flat out. Crumpling to lifelessness. He threw the table. Hitting the man in the stomach, a grenade smacking his cheek then tapping on the table. BOOOOOOOOM!!!!

Beating him one sore punch after another. The hospital was unnerving. He tapping his forearm as he crossed his arms. The inadequate doctor finally arrived. To tell him what could have been summed up minutes ago. She was in critical condition.

Jensen went by her apartment. He broke the news to Chris on the way down. Who didn't take it lightly. A monsoon on swears and more and Jensen had it. He bashed his face through a dent in the wall. Then used the other arm to punch him across the face. The poor man collided with the stairs rolling. And at his feet was Jensen who had jumped. Picking him up. He kneed him him the face then punched his chest sending his head flying into a step knocking him out.

He wasn't one for crying but now was more than he could afford in terms of endearment of strength. Tears shed. Machines don't cry. But bad men surely do. After several trips to the liquor cabinet he had enough. He leapt from his apartment window landing. His blades unsheathing and he killed all four the gangsters that hung out here across the street. He awoken in his apartment to hear himself on the news.

Some woman with blue hair claiming she was fan and he was 'the radical justice of New York'. Where was Jill's justice. He had quite enough to drink. About two bottles of Jack. His toilet was his final victim. Vomiting. Then he got up brushed his teeth. Took a steamy showered. And swore on Jill's grave he'd find the one responsible. Then of course solve this as it should've.

"I need a green herb. Papers too." Jensen said.

"You're that cop you probably undercover man!" The gangster said.

"I can assure you I'm not here to do anything. but purchase goods. And no for the last time I'm no cop." Jensen said the attitude brimming off his voice.

"I can't deal to no cop man." Jensen said.

This was getting nowhere and fast. Things needed to be made simple as a simple mind could conceive them from simplicity. Jensen grabbed the man in a second, his gun on him in a second. The man winced and panted knowing his life was over. Then Jensen shot a man in the crowd.

"A cop wouldn't shoot someone like that. What good would dealing and doing a bust do if I'm going around murdering people." Jensen unfastening the man dropping him to the ground.

The green herb was his. It was enough to cover half the wound. He arrived and left the hospital. He wished more than anything he had more time with him. But duty calls. He needed to make those responsible pay.

Next were a couple of unsaid fellows who'd have unsaid graves. The pool table was fine. Until Jensen was at their feet. Taking the stick from a man by flinging him into a wall. A bullet awaited him on his knee. A jab through an eye. And then cover by the pool table. He circled around and he was gone. The gun was smacked down and his other arm jabbed the man in the neck. Twisting it he fired the gun into the man's shoulder eating flesh by round by round by the second.

"You're working for someone. Someone idiotic. Name please." Jensen started dropping the man the and the gun kicking it aside with his foot.

"Nah man NAH NAH AAUGH!"