"So, Tony. you're certain it's the brunette?"

"Yes, Vince. Certain. But isn't brunette usually reserved for describin' chicks?"

Vincent considered this for a moment, stroking his hairless chin. "Yeah, no. You're right. 'tsa bit of a feminine thing." He pocketed the picture.

Anthony adjusted his glasses, in a motion Vince would describe as 'exasperatedly' if he knew what that word meant. "So you're telling me you find Jules 'the Frenchman' Laplace feminine?"

Vince palmed his cup of too-hot supermarket coffee, as he thought what the right answer to this question would be. He didn't even like coffee. He decided that honesty is always the best approach, with Tony. "Yes, he uh. Well, he looks girlier than any lass i've seen."

Tony took a sip of his soda, and made the universal human face for 'too sweet'. Vince supposed they both had too much respect for Old Frank at the counter to hang around his shop without buying anything. "Well, that's what i thought too. He just looks like a twink."

"What's that?"

"Don't worry about it."

Vince gave his signature eyebrow raise, but didn't push the matter. "Are you positive it's not the glasses fellow on the right?"

"Yes, Vincent. I'm positive. And certain. And sure. And every other word you've asked that question with." Tony glared.

"Alright, jeez. It's just a tad hard to believe is all." Vince said, making way for a blue shirted customer to pass by. "Jules Laplace, the terrifying button man that's had the Capo on our asses for a whole month, and he looks prettier than my sister!"

"You're very lucky Betty isn't here to hear that." Tony teased, A rare smile on his face.

"She'd agree!" Vince took a spirited sip of his coffee, and recoiled. Still too hot.

"Probably, but only after slapping you silly."

"And, you know, with the other guy; it's at least a little believable. I mean, he isn't exactly the mean butcher i had in mind either, but at least he doesn't look like a woman."

"I don't care what you believe, Vince. And the Capo doesn't either. That there is him, with the brown hair, and we're to be on the lookout."

"Alright, alright. But, i mean, what the fuck are we supposed to do if we see him? Not like we're gonna be the lucky goons that take down the goddamn Frenchman."

Tony dared for a sip of the soda again, a bit more prepared this time. "We stick around, pretend we didn't see shit, and we call the higher ups. Capisce?"

"I got it, Tony. I got it. And no one says that anymore."

"Keep it down, you two." Old Frank gave them the stink-eye. It seems that the blue shirt fellow that had been confusedly looking around had finally come to the counter. His shoulder length hair framed his face awkwardly as he asked: "Um, do you have any mints?"

"Mints?" Frank blinked.

"Yeah, um, you know. The minty pills. Mouth fresheners."

"I know what mints are, boy." Frank frowned. "I was just sure you were gon' ask for condoms, is all. with all your embarassed shuffling about."

The stranger looked even more uncomfortable, if that was possible. but he didn't blush. His cheeks weren't made for it, Vince thought. "Erm, no." He tried to chuckle. He failed. "So, do you have mints?"

"No. No mints. But we do have gum. Does the same job, don't it?"

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"I. I mean, does it?"

"Well, you generally have mints to make your mouth smell nice and keep your tongue busy. Gum does the same."

"W-well, you have a point there. But. Uhm. Does it, like-"

"Spit it out, boy."

Vince stood corrected, as the stranger did actually blush this time. He fiddled with his necklace, too. "I, well. I was led to believe that having a mint b-before... kissing; Would make the experience... nicer?"

Frank laughed the way only a retired Irish mobster can. A mean sound, yet full of mirth. "Aye, boy. That it does. And gum can do the same, i suppose. Now pick a packet already, will ya?"

And so the stranger did. Or at least he got around to staring at them indecisively. The sight put a smile on Vinces face, making him forget his worries. Tony, however, seemed lost in thought.

Vince sipped, slowly. And then sipped again, staring at his friend. "What's got you pullin' the long face?"

"Hmm?" Tony snapped out of his daze. He gently considered another sip of his soda, but grimaced and decided against it.

"I'm askin' why you look so lost, Tones."

"Never call me that again."

"Jeez, just answer the question."

"It's just... he seems familiar, is all." Tony pointed at the stranger, who seemed to have finally decided on a packet of Mint & Raspberry bubblegum.

"The kid? Huh." Vince watched as the fumbling man took his wallet out, and searched around for a credit card.

"Yeah, i feel like i've seen him somewhere. Dunno." Tony stared as the man produced a pair of folded glasses from where they hung on his shirt. He put them on, carefully inspecting two different credit cards under the light.

Vince carefully grasped the picture, and took it out of his pocket. Tony, with no need for prior communication, took the picture from him and held it up.

They looked at the short haired, bespectacled boy on the photograph. Then, at the long haired yet similarly bespectacled boyish man in front of them.

 ""Oh.""

He was given a few seconds worth of time to chew his gum, walking away from the store, before they knocked his lights out.

---

"So you're telling me you've known this guy for three years-"

"Four, actually, we've been dating for three." The stranger, whom they now knew as Jamie, interrupted.

Vince was not amused.

"You've known him for four years and have no idea what his job is?" Tony finished the sentence, fiddling with a telephone. He had to call the Capo but the darn thing wasn't working.

"Well, i asked him once, i remember." Jamie squirmed against the ropes binding him. "I think he's in the sewing industry?"

"...You think?" Vince was doing his fox scowl again, where he squeezed his eyelids against each other until his eyes all but disappeared. "You fuckin' think?"

Jamie suddenly found an extreme interest in the floor tiles.

Tony sighed, exasperated, as he kept trying to get the phone working. He was the one supposed to play bad cop, but it seemed Vince wanted to turn things around today. So good cop it was. "Can you recall his exact answer? repeat it in as much detail as possible."

"Well," Jamie looked up, for half a second. "He kind of, sashayed on over and, like, smiled. And then he teased me for my... sudden, interest. And then he told me he's a button man." He blushed, again, as he said this. "And then he started fiddling with my shirts buttons, and, well, he's fast with his hands so-"

"That's about enough of that." Vince said, putting his hands on the top of Jamies chair. He leaned the chair backwards, and looked at his captive, from above, through lidded eyes. "Where. Is. He?"

"I have no idea, i swear i-"

"You say you're here to meet him. Then you say you don't have a meeting place. Now you say you have no idea where he is. How the fuck does that add up?"

"He always finds me! He-" Jamie gulped "He just tells me to be in some city at some day and... finds me, i-i've never asked how! I swear!" 

Tony, growing tired of the still non-functional phone, turned around at this. "So your little boyfriend can just sniff you out, whenever?"

"Yeah, he's-... He's been doing it for years now."

Vince got closer to Jamie's face and asked: "And you've never questioned this?"

"N-no? i'm just happy to be around him, i guess." Jamie said. "And, he's like, a very energetic person. Like a roller coaster, so there isn't exactly downtime to ask him stuff like that!"

Tony finally got the telephone to beep.

"The kid doesn't even know what a goddamn button man is, mate. He's hopeless!" Vince complained.

"True enough," Tony said. "You come here and call the Capo, i'll deal with the brat."

Jamie seemed relieved, as Tony came towards him. Their good cop bad cop routine never failed. But Tony hadn't been the good one in a very long time, so he scratched his head a little, before finally deciding to hand the kid some of his gum back. Mint & Raspberry.

Jamie seemed ecstatic at an excuse to not talk. Tony seemed exhausted. Neither of them noticed the little flash of red light from Jamies necklace.

"Hey, Tones? are you sure you got this working? I don't hear a beep!"

"I told you to never call me that again-"

The lights went out.

To give them credit, both of the untied men in the room reacted very quickly. Although it says much of their personality that Tony went for a flashlight and Vince reached for his gun. One would prefer to be armed and blind, and the other aware yet defenseless.

This is also why Vince was targeted first. 

A little flash of steel, and his wrist fell limp. The gun going down with it. Then, the knife went from his wrist to his forehead. It impaled him with such force that the sound rang through the room like lightning.

Although it would be utterly false to say Tony was unfazed with the brutal dispatchment of his partner of many years, he didn't panic. That horrid sound also meant that the knife wasn't going to come out easily. Leaving their intruder, leaving the Frenchman, with no weapon.

So he drew his revolver, held it above his flashlight, and fired.

It was standard, for men in their line of work, to wear some form of protection against gunfire underneath their clothing. At least it was standard for the wiser fellows that had some cash to spare. So when the intruder used Vincents still warm corpse as a human shield, he had the right idea.

And although Tony was a very jaded man, repeatedly shooting at the remains of his best friend was too much. He lowered the gun, instinctively, a look of horror on his face. And in response, he got Vinces body thrown at him.

The Frenchman had used his kill as a projectile by kicking it at Tony, while simultaneously yanking the knife out of the corpses forehead.

It was over, at that point. Tony was holding Vince now. Getting a good look at his pale face, dead eyes and the gaping wound above his brows had really made it settle in. He was gone.

That moment of sentimentality was ruthlessly exploited, by Jules. A quick slash on the neck and Tony was on his way to meet his friend.

Jamie whimpered, quietly. Afraid. Jules walked towards him with the same predatory sashay that he had once found so appealing. Now, seeing Tony slowly bleed out under him, it was so much more.

Jules put his hands on Jamies cheeks, delicately. Wiping a stray droplet of blood away. Going for the neck was always messy, very messy, that's why he didn't like it. And then, uncaring of his partners terrified eyes and his own blood soaked exterior, Jules leaned in for a kiss.

"Oh my, minty fresh today darling!"

~fin~