Rainy Days

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Plans, Plans, And Look! Even More Plans!

[at the commission–time unknown]

"HIS HOUSE won't be guarded? And no innocents will be there?" Her red-eyes glinted in the flickering light; they where back in the room given to her and Park. It was dark and grimy, papers scattered about and the two cots shoved in a corner messy and unmade. A cork-board covered in images of the Hargreeves and Reel family, scribbled notes and push-pins. On the desk, where the current blue-prints of Jordan Reel's house lay, was one framed image of a mousy girl, smiling and hugging Park with his black eyes and the red-eyed woman.

"There shouldn't be tomorrow. Jordan arrives home at about three. As long as he doesn't bring his friend, Tate Vegner—it will only happen today, we believe; the two where making up after the fight they had Saturday. You can easily take them all." Dot shifted her dress and glanced anxiously at the red-eyed woman.

"With a team? I may be strong, but Park and I have to combine our powers to even stand a chance. And, we'll need a lot of guns. Like, a lot," the red-eyed woman said.

"Of course. You'll have to discuss specifics with The Handler, of course, but I'm sure she'll give you what you need. And Park, he—"

"They." She interrupted, eyes flashing. Her purple hair was trickling over her shoulder, pure and violent. "Park is a they."

"Right, I apologize." Dot said nervously. "I'm sure they will help you."

She nodded and pulled the blue-prints closer. Dot stood there and watched, clicking her nails together and gazing about the room.

It was rather disgusting; her nose crinkled in distaste when she saw the pile of dirty clothes. Especially the tee-shirt obviously soaked through with blood.

Park stormed into the room, making Dot jump; their normally black eyes flickered with orange and a gorgeous butterfly flitted angrily around their head.

"Why is she still here?" Park said, pointing accusingly at Dot. "She shouldn't be here."

"I–I was told to inform you two about Jordan Reel's house," Dot stammered, feeling herself wilt under both of their fiery gazes. It was like staring into the pits of Hell.

"Great! Get out," Park very nearly growled at her; heart beating faster than a racehorse, Dot scampered from the room, mind already thinking up what gossip there was to be had. Normally, the strange, red-eyed woman was the angry one; but Park, with their quiet reserve and butterflies, they got pissed!

Oh, Dot needed a pay raise.

Once she had left the room, heels clacking fading away, Park whirled to the red-eyed woman.

"I'm helping," they said. She arched an eyebrow, leaning lazily against the table.

"Helping with what, Park?" She asked calmly. The butterfly twirled in the air and landed on Parks head.

"Killing them. I've been completely useless!"

"Aw, you haven't been useless!" She smiled with her sharp teeth and pushed off the table, walking up to them and running her fingers through their hair; the butterfly flew off, agitated. "You've been spying on them with your little butterfly!"