Their team had worked in shifts of two to monitor the Hawk. Jimin had the feeling of getting the worst of it, being of the lowest rank and single, but he did not complain. This being his first real job, he would do a damn asking for a break and making a bad impression. Even when it meant sleeping irregularly and following the man to the most mundane things such as grocery shopping and taking a walk, a truly tiring chore and frustrating whenever they lost the man in the traffic because of keeping a reasonable distance.

Every movement had to be noted to find patterns that refused to arise, and the only thing that stopped Jimin from dying of boredom (and of awkwardness when he was paired with Choi) was that the teacher of one of the seminars had told them that monitoring was mostly waiting. For days, for weeks, sometimes even for months.

Ms. Kim was still trying to emphasize the fact that they were the first to find the man's apartment what made them the most successful mission so far, but Choi had begun to turn her down with the fact that it was not so hard to be the best mission when you started because the target made a mistake. Any idiot could slip a tracker into a handbag when the owner was sleeping. Their morale had started sinking after that.

However, their perseverance had been rewarded in the end. Over the last three days Jimin had detected a pattern in the evenings. The Hawk would leave his apartment at eight to go to a bar and come back at around ten. This was damn suspicious for a man who normally did not show any patterns, not even for grocery shopping or eating out. Hence, Choi had decided to take surveillance a step further and had allowed them to follow the hitman inside the bar tonight should the opportunity arise. No interaction, just watching to see with whom he might be meeting.

Jimin and Ms. Kim jumped slightly when the pre-set phone alarm went off, and their heads snapped around to check the entrance of the apartment block. The taxi was already waiting, so the man should come out any minute now. When he did, Jimin turned the keys of the car and prepared to follow them.

As it turned out, the Hawk was visiting the bar again. They had their chance to make a move.

"Who should go?" Jimin asked Ms. Kim, hoping that she would offer because he suddenly felt scared at the prospect of being in the same room as a hitman.

"You should go," she surprised him.

"Me?" he choked out nervously. He was a rookie, practically knowing nothing about actual field work. What if he messed it up? Superintendent Choi and Chief Kim would skin him. "I don't know, Assistant Inspector. Don't you think I'm too inexperienced?" he tried to wiggle his way out.

But she would not let him. "Listen, Jimin," she said with a nervous urgency in her voice and would not meet his eyes. "I... I asked Superintendent Choi to let you on the team for a reason." Oh, so Ms. Kim had gotten him the spot. That explained a lot. Barely anyone would contradict the niece of the chief if she asked for something.

"I was part of the team the last time we had the chance to approach the Hawk. In fact... In fact, I was the bait," she revealed and Jimin was shocked. Shocked and impressed. To be exposed to a killer like that must have been nerve-wracking. They had basically expected those women to seduce the man! But it was no wonder they had chosen Ms. Kim; she was a beauty with her long straight hair and small face, and if she refrained from always being stiff and cold like her uncle, she could sure break a man's heart.

"But you see, he did not even show the slightest of interest," she told him what he already knew. "And after the others failed as well, it made me wonder." Now she looked at Jimin. "Did you not wonder why a young man such as the Hawk would turn down beautiful young ladies who talk him up at the bar?"

Jimin stared back at her baffled. No, he had not asked himself that because it appeared natural to him. Either the hitman had been too focused on getting a job done or he was simply not interested in hookups. Not every man was sex-crazed maniac lifting every willing skirt that walked in front of their face.

"What if he is not interested in women?" she voiced her thought and looked at him intensely.

Or that. "That's... that's possible," he stuttered in response, slightly thrown off-track. Why had he not thought about that?

"So, if he is gay, you are our best chance at approaching him," she finished her explanation.

Now that was a harsh blow and Jimin felt like he could not breathe properly for the better part of the next minute. What was she suggesting? That he had been brought into the team so that he could spread his legs for a killer to get him behind bars? What the fuck! This was perverse. In the next moment he was ashamed of his thoughts when he remembered that the women, that Ms. Kim, had been willing to do just that to get evil off the streets.

"Jimin, calm down," Ms. Kim told him and shook his shoulder to snap him out of it. Once he was focusing on her face again, she continued. "It is just a theory until we have proof, but maybe he makes a move on you and we get the answer. You only need to sit somewhere visible. Either he comes at you by himself, or he does not. Whatever happens, we get results." When she saw his mortification, she added, "And no one can force you to do more than that. It is entirely your decision. But being part of the department, you should at least monitor a suspect when you are asked to do so, should you not?"

She was right about that, so Jimin repressed the thought of seduction and nodded. This was what he had trained for all the years at the academy and in the seminaries about infiltration and organized crime. This was what he had wanted to do since he was sixteen, so he had to get his shit together and toughen up. This was not a sting operation in a crime network of drugs and skins, this was getting close to a single man who killed for a living. The thought was not as comforting as he had thought it would be.

"Will you go in?" Ms. Kim asked him. Technically she could order him and he would have to follow, but he was grateful and a little vexed that she gave him the choice. Chickening out now would make him look like a fool. There were people in their department working under drug lords and skin smugglers, risking their life on a daily basis, and he could not even monitor a target in a bar. He would become the laughingstock of the force and the doormat for Superintendent Choi's army boots.

He nodded again, this time with more conviction. He could do this. It was just being passive, after all. The seminars had taught him how to act along, so he tried to find a role. With his Busan accent, he could pretend he was new in Seoul, a new job maybe. A look into the rearview mirror at the black lines under his eyes made the rest of the story fall into place: his boss was an slavedriver and his former dreams were crumbled do dust by stress and the constant glares of his colleagues when he did something wrong. Yeah, that was generic enough and not too far from the truth, after all Choi was constantly throwing him glares when he was not busy with more important stuff.

With a last look back at Ms. Kim, he slipped out of the driver's door and crossed the street. When he saw himself in the reflection of the mirror in the entrance area of the bar, he thanked himself for wearing a white button-down and dress pants and not having combed his hair all day. He looked like he had slept on the office floor for a week.

The Hawk, dressed in an anthracite suit and shiny black leather shoes, was sitting next to another man in a black suit who was bent over the counter. Remembering the words from a teacher who had said 'It's dark at the bottom of the light house', meaning that people were less suspicious about things in their imminent proximity, Jimin sat down at the small bar, too, leaving two free stools between him and the hitman and ordering a glass of red wine.

It was strange to see the man in a suit. In the pictures of the files he had mostly worn black jeans and wide t-shirts, occasionally a leather jacket, and his hair had been falling into his eyes. Now however, the other looked like a successful businessman. His hair was styled to reveal his forehead and his posture radiated confidence, his face carried a smug expression and even his nails looked like he had gotten a manicure recently. He looked perfect and sharp, intimidating even, something Jimin had not deemed possible with such an ordinary appearance.

"He's brilliant and ruthless, and I admire that," the man next to the Hawk said, words slightly slurred. The corner of the hitman's mouth twitched in amusement at the remark, but he remained silent. "He's great, but he's the devil himself as a boss," the other rambled on, and Jimin had the fleeting sense of his story being stolen before he told himself that this was silly and the department would surely not send two agents after one man.

When the Hawk lifted two fingers to gesture the bartender for new shots, the situation began to make sense: apparently, Jimin's target had an own prey whom he tried to fill up with alcohol. He watched the show playing out from the corner of his eye.

"Lucky him to have a secretary as loyal as you," the hitman remarked. His volume was low, but it felt like someone had shouted into Jimin's ear, and he experienced a sudden feeling of plummeting inside his stomach. This was much too real, too close, too dangerous. His whole body screamed at him to run away. One flick of those neat hands and Jimin would have to endure the worst pain he had ever experienced. He was sure. Ms. Kim must have gone insane to send him, a rookie, into the field to get close to one of the supposedly most lethal man in the country.

The unknown man smiled, happy with the praise and unaware of which evil was playing with him, and downed the next shot while Jimin tried to fight the flight instinct and stay in his seat. He had seen the pictured of the men and women with a hole in their heads. Innocent families were suffering at this bad guy's hand, he reminded himself. This was not just about him, so he had to get his shit together and stop being a wimp. He was just here for watching, for God's sake.

After the internal pep-talk, he felt not necessarily better. It was merely enough to keep him in his stool and watch them for about an hour, the pattern always the same: the unknown secretary would ramble about his boss and his job, and the hitman would provide him with drinks and the occasional word of comfort. Jimin adored the latter's stamina. Not once the smug smile would waver or any kind of annoyance would show on the Hawk's face. He endured the slurred praises and complaints that became filthier and more assuming with every passing minute and just focused on getting the secretary drunk.

After said hour, and two glasses of wine on Jimin's side, the secretary's head fell onto the counter and he breathed evenly. The Hawk had knocked the man out cold. Now he fished the drunkard's phone out of his jacket pocket and examined it, then he took the man's limp hand and pressed his thumb on the screen. A biometric lock mechanism. How people could think that this was a safe way to secure a phone was beyond Jimin. Attentively, he watched the hitman work his way through the mobile's content, obviously knowing what he was searching for.

When the Hawk was satisfied, he pushed the phone back into the secretary's pocket and turned around to Jimin. "Hey, gorgeous, nice to meet you," he said like they had agreed on meeting here like old friends.

Jimin tried to hide his explosive panic as well as possible but had the feeling of failing terribly. "I-I-I I'm sorry for staring," he murmured, looking down at the counter shyly and grabbing the half-empty wine glass tighter. He was an idiot for staring. He had made such a basic mistake that he should be flogged for it.

The Hawk stood up, surrounded the stools that were separating them, and leaned against the counter. He was much too close for comfort, for anything really, but before Jimin could do or say something, the man's hand was on his knee fixing him in place.

"What were you looking at?" the hitman asked. His sharp eyes were betraying his bored voice, which made Jimin wonder what was going through that head right now. Was he checking Jimin for any kind of hostility or danger? Should Jimin play oblivious or should he be honest? Idiot or not? An idiot was probably less of a threat to the hitman, but would he want to get close to one? Was that the type he liked? Stupid and cute? Or feisty and cute? Why was Jimin even thinking about that?!

"Nothing," he croaked out his response.

The Hawk leaned in and Jimin's body tensed even more, so hard that he could barely breath and was concerned for the wine to make a second appearance on the counter. When the man spoke, warm air ghosted over Jimin's ear. "I know you saw what I did," he whispered dangerously cold. "Will you snitch on me, gorgeous? Or can I count on your discretion?"

Jimin's mind was in shambles. The breath that caressed his ear and the almost painfully tight grip on his knee was all he could really focus on when he desperately tried to search for an answer. This was either rowing back completely, ruling himself out as a player for the rest of the mission, or attacking. The best defense is a good offense, someone said in his head. This was his chance to get them closer to the target, so he must not mess it up.

He was never shy for words, but while his heart was running a marathon his tongue seemed to be paralyzed. What should he do? Stupid and cute, or feisty and cute? Playing stupid had not worked the first time, so he went for feisty.

"Depends," he rasped after a pause that he feared had been too long. But to his surprise and relief, the Hawk leaned back to look at him from a distance. The hitman seemed entertained. But although the man's mouth was formed into an amused smile, nothing of that playfulness reached his eyes. They were void of any emotion. Jimin felt his blood rushing in his ears and wondered what would happen if he passed out right under the man's hand.

"Depends on what?" the other asked eventually after scanning his face for several long seconds, and Jimin realized in wonder that the other was playing along with his act. So feisty and cute did it?

The relief at the man's compliance with this little game made thinking a lot easier, and the next words were basically flowing over his lips compared to his monosyllabic stumbling from before. "Whether you stay and drink with me, or leave," he responded and even managed half of a mocking smile.

"Well," the hitman replied, smile still not reaching his eyes but posture much more relaxed, "seems like I do not have much of a choice then."

><

Yoongi stood up to leave the bar. The secretary and the guy named Jimin were knocked out on the counter, and he longed for his bed.

"Hey!" the bartender shouted after him. "Get your friends out of my bar, would you!"

Yoongi turned around. "They're not my friends," he replied flatly.

"Do I look like I care?" the bartender retorted. "Make 'em leave."

What a sunny personality.

With a sigh, Yoongi walked back to the bar and shook the secretary. Fortunately, the man woke up and he walked him out of the bar (not without promising the bartender to come back for the second one) to push him into a taxi. Jimin was another story though. The man slept like a stone.

Sour with how the situation had turned out for him, Yoongi slung one of the young man's arms around his shoulders and lifted him up to carry him outside, and with a thud he dropped the boy in the next side street and walked away. Not his responsibility.

But his steps became slower with the growing distance to the body when an idea crossed his mind. Did Jimin walk here or did the loser come by car? After some determined strides he was back next to the brunette and searched the dress pants' pockets for a wallet or keys. Lucky him, he thought when he held the car key in hand and stood up again. Maybe he should take the wallet and the phone, too? Because if it was not him taking it, there sure as hell would be another homeless twink stealing them.

"Whata you doin' t' me?" the unfortunately no longer unconscious boy slurred, and Yoongi groaned in frustration. He should have just left when he had had the chance. "Don' leave me," the idiot begged with teary eyes and a weak hand clawed Yoongi's pant leg in desperation.

He stared at the alcohol-flushed face while weighing his options. He could walk away and hope never to see that guy again, he could call a taxi of the police to let them pick him up, or he could take him home. The police was out of question because he did not know how talkative Jimin would be about what he had witnessed at the bar, and quite frankly, Yoongi had no intention to land his unregistered phone number registered at the police in any form or way, and the taxi was out of question since no taxi driver would make the effort to carry a completely drunk and probably unconscious stranger into their apartment and Yoongi would do a damn playing the gentleman.

The first option of leaving Jimin behind seemed extremely tempting at this point but was out of question as well. Yoongi had enough dangerous people on his track and watching over his shoulder for an idiot who wanted to sue him for disposing him in an abandoned allay and stealing his car and wallet was not what he needed. And who knew, maybe Jimin was up for some gratitude-sex.

"I suppose you can't walk," he growled at the misery on the ground. Jimin just stared at him with glossy eyes. This one apparently was beyond words now. Would he even remember what happened when he woke up tomorrow? Well, Yoongi would not test his luck.

><

Ms. Kim had slipped out of the car when she had seen the Hawk exiting with Jimin and was now watching the interaction in the side allay with a mix of concern and awe. They had not been allowed to contact the target, so Superintendent Choi would be displeased, but it looked like Jimin had managed to catch the man's attention and was now playing drunk. Whether it was to get closer to the man or to get rid of him in order not to go home together, she could not tell, but both made sense, and she felt like applauding her colleague's bravery.

However, when she saw the Hawk fishing the car key from Jimin's pocket, she wanted to slap the younger for his stupidity. Jimin must have taken it in a reflex when he got out. To her surprise, the Hawk was picking Jimin up again from where he had dumped him so unceremoniously und in the next second the car blinked awake and she could only watch nervously how the hitman put her colleague on the backseat and drove off.

Was this still part of the plan? It did not look like it. Jimin had not looked very happy at the prospect of being the bait, so he sure would not drive home with a killer in the next second.

Trying to stay calm, Ms. Kim pulled her phone out and dialed her superior's number.

"Anything interesting?" Choi greeted her bored.

"Jimin drove away with the Hawk," she said, forcing the burning of panic down. "You must track his phone. I have no idea what he is doing, but I am almost sure that he did not go willingly."

She had been stupid for sending their rookie after such a dangerous man. So stupid.

"Shit, where are you?" Choi replied, voice now attentive and serious.

"I will grab a taxi and come to the bureau. You must track him down right now," she answered and ended the call after an agreeing hum from the other end.

The taxi ride was like a horror trip where pictures of Jimin pale or mutilated, buried in some desolate space, flashed through her mind. It would have been her fault. She had gambled and won, but the prize was not what she had expected.

The anxiety made her run up the stairs to the entrance and of bureau, and the very moment she entered the nightly office, she blurted, "Where is he?"

Choi was sitting behind her desk and watching a red dot. "At the Hawk's," he replied flatly.

At the Hawk's, so not on the way to dispose a body. Maybe Jimin was really a brave one and had taken advantage of the situation. That was not exactly her picture of him, but dire situations pulled out traits that normal situation could never produce in a person. She knew from experience.

"I think you owe me an explanation," their team leader said and crossed his arms with a frown.

"You know what I told you when I asked you to recruit him. I think it's true, Sir. Can I check up on Jimin now, please?" she asked of him. The phone being at the Hawk's place was a good thing, but she wanted to make sure that not just the phone but also the body stayed there overnight.

"Check up?" Choi asked with furrowed brows. He apparently was concerned that she would blow their mission by trying to save Jimin.

"I just want to make sure, that the Hawk does not move him while we cannot see," she clarified.

That smoothed out the wrinkled in the team leader's face and he nodded. "Tomorrow I want a thorough explanation, though," he insisted with a finger pointing at her chest. "The SUV is free tonight."

With that he left her to her job.

><

Yoongi regretted his decision when he pushed open the door to his apartment. Getting the unconscious boy in and out of the car had been a hassle. Jimin obviously was a pathetic lightweight but he was not so light.

With a thud, the lifeless body landed on the mattress and Yoongi rolled his shoulders to smooth out the pain in his back. Jimin definitely had a cute face, but no cute face was worth such effort. What had he been thinking? Sex, probably. His starved lizard brain had taken control over his thoughts during one weak moment. He should be better than this.

Shaking his head at his own stupidity, he turned around to the whiteboards that were plastered with pictures and information about his next target and flipped them around to make them look innocent and boring with some market development graphs and a calendar, that looked like that of a businessman. Then he went back over to the mattress.

Staring at the deadweight, he decided to wrap him into a blanket and let him sleep on the floor. That should be friendly enough for allowing a total stranger in his apartment; no one could expect him to share his bed with him. He pulled the wallet and phone from the man's pockets, got a thin cover blanket from the commode, and began to roll the limp body up in it like one would with a carpet to leave it in a tight roll in front of the mattress; it was a makeshift constraint that would give him enough of an advantage in case this idiot tried something stupid at night. Then he pulled out the boy's ID and snapped a photo. Better safe than sorry.

After emptying a bottle of water to fight the slight dizziness from the booze and prevent a hangover, he got ready for bed as well. Tomorrow the diversion would be gone, and Yoongi would have his apartment to himself again. No distracting cute faces and unnecessary deadweight anymore. With that thought in mind he went to bed.

>><<