Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

Author's Note: I'm sorry for some of the parts/chapters being short, but this was started as a gift to my friend, who owns the characters Remmy and Vigi, and I like to crank them out in short bursts so he has something to read sooner. Unchecked by beta. I hope you enjoy the story and leave some feedback! :3

PART ONE

A short young man sat on the counter of security check-out; an offense that would be sending a yelling superior his way once he got caught. As it were, no one except the vaguely amused people being checked through noticed, and they didn’t seem to care enough to report the odd behavior of the small, blond security man as they filed through the metal detector.

It wasn’t long before the line gradually disappeared into a few straggling couples, struggling to lift their heavy baggage onto the counter to be checked... and then they were gone too, hurrying away in a flurry of curses to their departing bus.

Benny grinned over at the plump uniform at the next check-out who was struggling with his tie. “Slow day, huh?”

The attempt at conversation got an almost agreeable grunt and no more. Whatever. Trefor had never been the best choice for amusement since the pouty man started coming in to work the early mornings. Benny’s large green eyes rolled towards the ceiling and he slid his hands back to grasp the edge of the counter so he could lean back more comfortably. His legs kicked, heels thumping in an irregular beat against the side of the counter as his feet come nowhere near clearing the floor. Well, whether Trefor agreed or not, it was a slow day- and Benny was getting bored.

.... And the Big Guys were off somewhere in the front. Nobody around except Trefor, who he knew wouldn’t tattle, and some new, lanky guy working all the way across the room looking like he was still half-asleep. Good. Benny grinned again, his mouth stretching wider than nature should have allowed, before he quickly turned his expression neutral. The next person to go through his detector was going to be his morning entertainment. A second cup of coffee to begin his lovely day.

Benny straightened and lifted his legs to spin around on the counter and slid off to stand behind, where he was supposed to be. Trefor shot over a suspicious look that Benny ignored and they waited... and waited.... and waited... and Finally!

Tall, blond, tan, and handsome! Benny fixed a polite smile that fit lopsided on his face and watched as the man approached. No bags, so there would be nothing to dig through and exclaim over, but that didn’t put a damper on his plans. The man smiled back, a sexy, confident quirk of lips, and Benny almost wished he could see the man’s eyes through those heavy black shades. They were probably just as hot as the rest of the package...

The man paused, frowning, when the detector started beeping and Benny gave him an apologetic look. “If you have any keys ‘re metal jewelry, I’ll have to ask you ta remove 'em b’fore you walk through.”

There was a moments pause, and then a ring was pulled off the man’s thumb and dropped in the little basket on the counter. No keys or other trinkets came from the deep pockets of the man’s dark trench and Benny gave a mental shrug. The guy must’ve arrived by taxi. Still smiling, Benny gestured with the hand not hidden in his pocket for the man to try going through again.

Another smirk, another round of beeping, and another frown- this time, pale shapely brows pinched and Benny knew the man was irritated. Nothing else to put in the basket? Too bad. Benny turned his head to hide a split-second twitch of lips, then looked back up with his most professional stare in place. “Please remove your jacket, Sir.”

“... Right.” The man muttered, his first word since walking in, and Benny shivered delightedly the deep voice. Niiiiiice.

The trench landed on the counter with a leathery thump and Benny went about the usual; a quick scan over with the hand held detector, pat down the pockets, and then moving it to the other side of the counter to wait for its body to cross over and claim it back onto those perfectly spaced, muscled shoulders Benny could just make out under the man’s soft-looking button up shirt. Cashmere. Double nice.

Bulges were under said nice cashmere shirt, bulges that weren’t a pair of love handles if Benny’s training had anything to say about it. Not nice. Soooooo beyond not nice. Did this guy really think those things would make it through a metal detector?

Benny hit his emergency button at the exact moment Mr-Guns-In-Pants made his move, and then the little blond was ducking, scrambling for his defense taser, and watching as the most lovely black-clad behind he’d ever seen made a run for it. Benny sighed and bumped his chin into the floor, not bothering to get up as the three Bus Terminal officers flooded through the exit after the runaway gun holder.

It just had to be the hot one. Great. Once the Big Guys were done with their goose chase, it would be fifty-question time for little ole’ Ben.... and Trefor. Trefor had watched the whole thing, no doubt.

Working in such a crappy area, with such crappy security all around, meant all blame would fall on them if the guy wasn’t tackled by the end of the day. They’d get yelled at- and probably fired. No. Definitely fired. The Big Guys seemed to get off on firing people lately; a fact proven by the three empty counters between Benny and Trefor and that guy across the room. Benny would probably be sent home for good whether the hot guns guy was caught or not.

And it might’ve been worth it if Benny had at least got far enough to see if the man wore boxers or briefs.

Trefor was just peeking out from under his own counter when Benny stood up, and then the plump man was up and glaring. He was obviously smart enough to know they were out of the job too- but thankfully not placing the blame out loud. How could Benny have known his chosen playmate would have automatics tucked in his trousers? Nobody could’ve guessed that!

“So...” Benny leaned against his counter, lips posed like he was about to whistle. He reeeeally didn’t want to stick around to get yelled at and he doubted the officers here could be bothered to track him down if he just happened to... not be here when they returned. Nobody cared in this part of town. It wasn’t as if someone got shot or robbed, it wasn’t a strange thing to find someone walking with guns. Benny just didn’t want to be involved with anybody who could possibly be showing up on the Wanted posters pasted on the terminal doors. “I’m jus’ gonna, ya know, be headin’ on home now... I think my shift’s ‘bout up.”

Yea. Skipping out three hours early was nothing. Trefor seemed to agree and, a minute later, Benny was walking out the door with the plump man right behind, both back in their street clothes and Benny with a dark brown trench coat under his arm. It was a nice coat, he wasn’t about to leave it there when there was no identification or scary metal readings inside; he was going to take it home and, if it got any colder out, wear it. He had no problem with wrapping himself up in cozy, overly large clothes.

Nobody stopped the two security drop-outs and they wandered out to their respective cars without a hitch. A quick wave and Benny ducked into his old Plymouth Volare. It creaked in welcome and he tossed his bag and the trench into the backseat, careful not to miss- there was only half a floor left in the back and that half was a piece of plywood he’d tried to nail down- then he got the car started and pulled out with a loud rattle and croak that had pedestrians dodging on the sidewalk.

Benny was in fairly high spirits when he got back to his apartment complex, proud that he’d only stalled once on the way there. Trench tossed over one shoulder and his bag hanging from the other, he trotted up two flights of stairs, and past a number of doors he couldn’t be bothered to count, to his home sweet home. Door 9-C. Benny checked both front pockets and pulled his key from the right rear, then spent a moment fumbling with the stubbornly misshaped keyhole before he got it unlocked. Some day that wasn’t today, he would have to have a talk with the landlord about getting that fixed.

“I’m home, Baby-sqwaaaa- Baby!”

“Yea, I’m home, Baby.” Benny grinned at the bird cage next to the couch as he slipped through the door. Baby flapped his wings excitedly against the bars before settling down with his feathers fluffed happily on his perch. Crazy bird.

The living room was a familiar disaster of crooked, torn cushions, Chinese-food containers, and discarded blankets. Sophia, a small gray cat, was busy wearing down the arm of the dull tan couch against the wall, purring for all she was worth for no apparent reason. Benny didn’t have the heart to scold the thin fur ball and instead scratched the butt of her tail as he passed. “Brat. Don’t make holes.”

Benny plopped himself in the middle of the couch, tossing the trench over the back and his bag towards the kitchenette, and squirmed his rear deep into the soft cushions with a wide yawn. The tv switched on to late morning cartoons and green eyes slid into a half-closed stupor, more than ready to close until a more reasonable hour now that there wouldn’t be anymore dreary work for the day.

Brushing the blond hairs curling against the back of the couch was the collar of the trench coat... Benny didn’t see the tiny red light flashing from behind its neck tag.

PART TWO

“What the hell, Vigi!” A mask covered Remmy’s head and neck, red hair spilling out from the back edge and running down his back like bright blood against his all-black outfit. An outfit made to do naughty things in the night; except that it was only just noon and already the plan for that night was ruined. His buddy, pal, partner, who was supposed to be lurking inside the building they had targeted, getting things set, was standing in their lounge eating a fucking Dunkin’ Donut. What the FUCK was Vigi doing with Dunkin’-fuckin-Donuts!?

Vigi sighed, running a hand through his bleach blond hair as he shifted to lean against the wall. His partner was still sitting on the couch, but he could tell the redhead was seconds from leaping up and starting a brawl right there in the doorway; which would be inconvenient considering all of Vigi’s more fragile treasures from their escapades were on shelves around this door. Smashing over and rolling on them wasn’t on his list of to-do’s. “Listen... it wasn’t my fault, ok? The damn metal detector kept going off in the bus terminal, so unless you missed a spot when you were coating the guns-”

“You got caught in a bus terminal!?”

“I didn’t get caught, asshole, I’m here aren’t I!” Vigi glared, tempted to march over to the couch, rip of that stupid mask, and slap Remmy in the face with it. Looking to the side, Vigi focused on a large vase against the wall and took a deep, calming breath. “Listen. I need you to run the tracer on my coat-“

“I don’t give a shit about your stupid coat.” Remmy snorted, pulling a lighter and cig from a stiff pocket in his shirt. He ignored Vigi’s frustrated growl as he lit up. “We’ve got other things to worry about; like how we’re supposed to get the fucking Tiara when it’s getting moved tomorrow!”

“The Tiara’s a bust- so we’ll get my coat, with all my stuff in it, and we’ll go bank swimming. Ok? Yea? That sound good enough to you? Great. Rev up the tracer, bitch.” Vigi stalked over looking for all the world like he was going to start something more- but he just dropped down on the other side of the couch, scowling just as fiercely as his partner. They sat in a fuming silence for a long stretch before he added, “Sorry.”

Remmy blew out a lung full of smoke and glanced over, mask tucked back over his ears, “Shut up. I’m all geared up and everything, so you’d better have a damn good bank in mind.”

“Yea. More donuts in the kitchen- grab one on your way to get the tracer.”

Benny didn’t react immediately when his bedroom window exploded and two tall forms came tumbling through onto his bed in a dramatic rain of sparkling shards. He was in the kitchenette making macaroni and the microwave beeped at that exact moment. It took all of three seconds for him to work out that the sound of shattering glass and cursing was not, in fact, part of the microwaving process. When he did, the macaroni was left to rot- Benny bolted.

“What the fuck did you do that for? I said I could shimmy it-”

“Quiet. I told you to leave the entrance to me-”

“Tell me this- What good is being quiet after you bust a window loud enough for the whole town to hear!?” Vigi kicked the bedroom door in, sending it crashing down with a thunderous CRACK on the hall floor. Now that they’d set such a loud tone, it would be best for everyone if they just made it look like an impulsive, brash break-and-enter in general. Meaning; break as much as possible, grab some crap they didn’t need, and get out of there with what they really came for. If anyone was in the house- make them dead or unconscious, whichever came most conveniently.

That was the plan- Vigi cursed as he tripped over some blue jacket lying in the middle of the floor. He picked it up to toss out of the way as Remmy chuckled and froze, staring at the familiar uniform and name tag. That little bitch.

Vigi looked up slowly, half out the door and still holding the jacket, and glared.

Benny froze like a deer caught in headlights. Ohhhhhh dear lord, no. There was no possible way that particular man would break into his house right after that morning. Nonono...

Except that it was definitely a very familiar tall, dark, and scary Mr. Guns crouched on the floor just outside his bedroom, all wrapped up in black like a panther about to pounce.

Benny let out a manly squeal of utter horror and threw himself away from the wall and across his livingroom, reaching the front door in a record time he would be proud of if not for the fact that a pair of frighteningly strong arms were clamping around the back of his knees, followed by the flying weight of a body at least a foot longer than his. “OHGOD,DON’TKILLME! MRS. HAMNS! MRS. HAMNS, CALL AN AMBULANCE-TH' POLICE! HELP! HEEEEEEL-Mmph!”

The arms climbed up Benny’s tumbled body until a big gloved hand could close around his mouth. There was already some frantic scuffling coming through the wall from next door, but he had the feeling a quick stab or bullet would be quicker than any hero Mrs. Hamns could conjure over the phone- and he knew at least one of these guys had a gun or two.

“Hey, your coat’s right here on the couch. I’d say this was a lot easier than if we’d had to break into the bus terminal’s goody-box.” Remmy grinned, tossing the trench over as Vigi stood awkwardly, a hand clapped over the little struggling blonde’s mouth and the other arm wrapped around the kid’s arms. Remmy raised an eyebrow, “Try not to kill him; can’t be older than fourteen.”

“This isn’t a kid- Ow! Shit!” Vigi let go of the smaller man’s mouth to grab his own nose- where the undergrown brat head butted him! No blood, just a heavy throbbing in his skull, but Vigi was pissed. He might’ve checked the tiny blonde out that morning, but there would be no love lost if he just snapped this bug-eyed head off, “You suicidal little bitch-”

“Hey, hey, I don’t have time to do a body disposal- last minute bank plots, yea?”

“T-t-trefor knows what ya look like!” Benny whimpered, face turning a little red as the larger blond’s arm squeeeeeezed around his neck, forcing his chin up. “H-he’ll tell th-the police if I g-go missing....”

“Look, I don’t know what sort of midget club you crashed this morning when you were supposed to be getting on the bus,” Remmy kicked over a pile of comics, not really finding anything that could be ruined any further than its current state when they arrived, “-but we need to get moving before the cops get here. Kill him, knock him over the head, do whatever the hell you want, but move it!”

Five minutes later, Benny was screaming around one of his dirty socks and cringing every time the muscular shoulder he’d once admired dug into his gut. Of all the nasty things he’d imagined in the long pause where Mr. Guns glared down at him, being kidnapped hadn’t been one of them. Go figure.

PART THREE

“Fuck!” Vigi hissed as the bare heel of a foot connected with his chin. For having such short legs, the brat had some strong thighs. There had been a brief stretch of peace when the little blond had realized no amount of flailing was going to make Vigi conveniently drop him during the get away- but as soon as Remmy opened the window to their flat and Vigi’s feet landed on the rug... Well, Vigi made the mistake of thinking all was clear to dump his wriggling package on the floor.

Benny fell face down to the floor, kicking his kidnapper in the face on the way down and in the groin once he’d landed, hands planted on the rug in an awkward headstand. He spit out the sock and dropped his legs so he could scramble away on all fours as “” sputtered in enraged agony.

Victory didn’t last long. Vigi lunged, red-faced and set to strangle, only to have Remmy catch the brat first. With a fist of blond hair, Remmy all but tossed their “hostage” in the general direction of the couch. His grin didn’t falter when the short blond tumbled over the corner of the glass coffee table instead. “Shit, V. I wish I had a camera for that donkey punch- oh wait. I do.”

“Touch those security cameras and you’re dead. I can live without a partner.”

“You won’t get away with this!” Benny said, the words coming out a tad more whiney than he’d intended as he sat on the floor with a hand over his throbbing side. Damned if that table didn’t have some sharp corners though. “There were cameras in that bus station! You think they won’t put two and two together when I go missing? I’m a witness!”

Remmy chuckled, not even looking over. “You’re not helping yourself, Kid. Why should we keep you alive if you’re nothing but a tattle waiting to happen?”

“I... I’m....” Face falling, Benny scooted back and slumped between the table and couch. His naturally wide eyes looked like small dinner plates with a large helping of dread creeping in. “I was just kidding?”

... Snorting, Remmy turned and headed through a door to the right that lead to the kitchen and, through there, the hallway. “V, find a spot to handcuff the kid 'til we get back and check your coat to make sure everything’s still there. We’re heading out in five minutes, side trips and distractions be damned.”

“Yea, yea...” Grumbling under his breath, Vigi cast a dark look to the side. Narrowed emerald and wide olive green met, tension sizzling in the air between those two sets of eyes as their owners glared and gulped respectively. The stared stretched through a full minute before Vigi broke it with a slow blink, irises seeming darker when they reappeared from behind his lids, and an even slower twist of his lips as they formed a sadistic smirk.

Benny recoiled like the taller man had snapped a rubber band across his nose, face cringing as his hands automatically crawled him sideways a few inches toward the opposite end of the coffee table, rear dragging on the rug and legs just following along uselessly since they’d been rendered to jelly. “D-don’t come near me, you- you-”

“What...?” Vigi purred back, crooning like he were speaking to a favored pet, “What am I?”

The complete turn around in expression made the hair on the back of Benny’s hair stand on end- or maybe it was part of the shivers that had traveled up his spine from that deep voice rumbling just so- or the goosebumps when Mr. Guns moved forward, even three steps coming across like a predator stalking prey. “Y-you’re a thief! A...a... a burglar! I heard your friend sayin' you were goin' t' rob a bank!”

“You’re right. Were, and still am.” Turning just short of reaching the coffee table where the small blond was trying to melt into a puddle on the rug, Vigi moved to a lamp table and pulled open its small drawer. He casually lifted a pair of handcuffs, voice crisp and a little hardened now. “I’m a big, mean criminal and you’re the helpless victim in my lair. If I decide not to kill you, you’ll have an interesting story to tell your children.”

Holding the cuffs stretched between his hands, Vigi brought them together and then yanked them apart to the end of their chain again, demonstrating that the links weren’t about to just snap free conveniently like in the movies if the blond pulled hard enough. The smirk returned when his captive flinched at the sharp chink of metal.

PART FOUR:

Remmy snorted from the kitchen, tossing back a mimosa as he listened to his partner “flirt” with their 'napped guest in the other room. He shook his head as he tucked the carton of orange juice back into the fridge. Why Vigi went for the scrawny ones was beyond him- there was much more to desire in men with some meat on their bones- but if Vigi wanted to fuck around with a midget it was no skin off his ass. So long as it didn't fuck with their plans any more than it already had, of course.

Because fucking with the plans meant no money making tonight and not making a profit had a habit of ruining Remmy's mood and putting them behind in rent. No way was he losing this sweet condo now that it was already decked with all his goods.

Shaking out his hair, Remmy smirked at the slight, pleasant buzz it produced, his champagne laced drink kicking in as he ran his fingers through the long red strands and pulled them into a tight braid that he wrapped up and around to tuck under his ski mask. “V! Ready yet?”

There was a yelp, followed by some loud clinking and a thud before Vigi answered with a growled, “Yea! Hold on- fucking-! Hold still you little-”

Of course Ben was spooked from his fear-induced trance once those handcuffs actually came his way. He kicked and flung fists in what his friends back in high school used to call his trademark “Flail-Fu”, screwing his eyes shut and managing to get in two good blind hits before one of his ankles were grabbed and he was yanked forward, head thudding on the rug as an elbow punched into his neck and knocked him flat on his back. Ow.

Vigi took advantage of the small blond's inability to breathe and looped the handcuffs through the intricate metal framework of the coffee table stand. Snatching one of the hands Ben was waving in red-faced panic, he snapped one cuff to the wrist and another to one of the boy's ankles, forcing the little blond into an awkward back arc just as his breath returned.

“Shit...!” Ben wheezed, gulping painfully as he pressed his free hand to the tender spot on the side of his neck. That was going to be hurting for a while, he could tell- definitely a bruise.

“Told you to hold still.” Vigi snorted. Honestly. A little struggle was all good and well, but it was never cute when some pint-sized brat clawed at your face. “Hope you're comfy, you earned it.”

Comfy. Yea. Ben groaned. He could already feel his back and shoulder protesting the position he'd been forced into. His voice was a croak as he added his two cents. “Couldn't.... you just do th' hands?”

“Nah.” Vigi gave a bastard's grin, giving his captive's cheek a pat before standing. “I think you'll enjoy it this way a lot more.”

((TBC...))