Seoul, 2019

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" 

Asked in jest between old friends, the question was barely loud enough to be heard. It was drowned beneath mindless chatter and dated jazz, both of which were far less interesting than the conversation at hand.

"Beat it, Yoongs," Hana gritted her teeth as she spoke, intent on keeping her poker face neutral. "I'm working."

In an underground bar just off the beaten track of the financial district, she wasn't here for fun. Quite the opposite.

Without even so much as asking, the barman slung a crystal tumbler with a single ice cube and an inch of oak-aged bourbon in it down towards Yoongi. A regular in this place, Yoongi pushed a few notes across the counter - not to pay for the drink, but rather for the tip that had been sent his way earlier that evening.

"You ain't the only one with a job to do, sweet cheeks," he hummed, earning a well-trained roll of Hana's dark eyes.

Min Yoongi was every bit the asshole, facing the room with his elbows resting on the bar. His dark hair was slicked back, and he was wearing a burgundy three-piece that just craved attention. He took a sharp sip of his poison and scanned the tables for familiar faces.

The room was dark, lit only by candles and wall sconces, but there was a buzz about the place that made it glow. It wasn't like the usual dingy haunts they frequented.

"Oh yeah? What's the job then? Fucking up mine?" Hana knocked back the rest of her vodka-cranberry and placed the glass back down with quite some force. "My target's due any minute, so please could you kindly fuck off."

His lips curled upwards at the edges, revealing his milky-white teeth ever so slightly. "You're such a charming young lady, you know that, right?"

"I don't get paid to charm you, Yoongi," She was rolling her eyes by this point. He was about to fuck the job up for both of them. Regardless, they both knew that she was a good worker. When it came to charms, there was no one better.

"Good, 'cause you'd be out of a job if you were," he tossed his empty tumbler back down on the dark wood of the bar, and swung round to face the cocksure girl beside him. "I'm here as backup, if you must know."

"Back up?" He had spiked her interest. They usually kept back up in the shadows, faceless. Yoongi was so exuberant that it was impossible for him to be undetected.

"Uh-huh," Yoongi nodded whilst making hand gestures to the barman for another drink. "Spoke to an informant earlier."

Hana knew that it was a lie - unless the dictionary had changed the meaning of 'spoke' to tortured and 'informant' to hostage.

"And?"

"Turns out he's less of a tinder man and more of a Grindr man," Yoongi said airily. As far as he was concerned, a job was a job. He didn't care if the target was male, female, young or old. He had his limitations, of course, but a consenting adult was a consenting adult. "Stick around though, Hana, I could do with a wing woman."

The strategy was simple: Seduce, sedate, steal.

Tonight's target was the secretary of the Mayor's office. He was the first step in a chain of more extensive plans that culminated in getting access to the Mayor's finances and having him at their beck and call. Politicians were all corrupt, not a backbone or full head of hair between them. It wasn't a case of if they'd find out he was dirty, just a matter of when.

"Right on time," Yoongi whispered, as a young, slightly dorky man made his way down the stairs into the basement level bar. "Follow my lead, don't fuck it up."

Hana rolled her eyes. Yoongi always spoke as if he had a chip on his shoulder. He always expected someone to mess things up for him. It's almost like he forgot they were on the same team; that they were both Dal Pa. Hell, had it not been for Yoongi, then Hana wouldn't have even been Dal Pa, to begin with. Despite the malice in his nature, his heart was in the right place.

Four years her senior, he had been the one to find a lonesome Hana walking the streets when she was just fourteen. Her mother had been six feet under for two years by that point, her body rotting and decomposing in the National Cemetary.

Cardiac arrest, they had said. Her heart just short-circuited, and, unlike a fuse box, you couldn't just flick the switch and get back to normal. One moment she was there. The next, she wasn't. It would have been all very traumatic for Hana, had the following years not been even more so.

Left in the custody of a step-father who drank more than any human possibly should, and who had a taste for manipulating control over other people, things were pretty bleak. They got bleaker once puberty kicked in. The scent of old spice still, to that day, made Hana feel nauseous.

A few days after she met Yoongi, her childhood home went up in flames in the dead of night. The neighbours claimed to have heard shrieking and arguing just minutes before the blaze took place, but nothing was ever proven.

When Yoongi returned home from work the following morning, his clothes smelt woody.

Burnt.

Hana put them in the washing machine with extra fabric conditioner, and they never spoke of it. They both knew what he had done.

She was forever in debt to him, but she didn't mind all that much.

"You sure you're okay with this?" Hana checked in, just to be sure. Her voice was low, but Yoongi was still able to hear it above the buzz of the bar. He always had an ear open for her.

"Are you always okay with the jobs you do?" He smirked, knowing full well that it didn't matter if they liked their jobs. They liked getting paid - anything prior to that had always been a bit of a grey area.

He weaved through the crowd and snuck into a gap between the target and the bar, nudging a martini glass ever so gently, just enough to land on the target's lap. There was a gasp as the cold liquid splashed against the young man's blazer, and Yoongi feigned equal surprise.

"I am so sorry! Here, let me get that for you," Yoongi flirted, patting a napkin against the crotch of the Mayor's secretary. The blush in his cheeks matched the burgundy of Yoongi's suit. It didn't take a genius to work out that Dal Pa would be getting paid well tonight.

Within a few minutes, it was clear that Yoongi didn't need a wing woman at all. He was unbearably charming, able to wrap anyone around his pinky if he wanted to. Hana envied it slightly, the exuberant charm he could turn on at the flick of a switch - but what she lacked in skill, she made up for in... other assets. Being the only woman on the team had its advantages.

Despite knowing the job had dried up for her, Hana felt it would be a shame to waste such an exquisite dress on a few Cape Codders. She had chosen it specifically for the occasion, dark green satin to match the coat of arms that the Mayor's office boasted. It cut off just above her knees and was more demure than what she would have typically gone for; more Stepford wife than Seoul whore. Still, it was nice playing dress up every now and again. She considered herself clocked out, shift over and caught the barman's attention for another drink.

Just one more, she told herself. One more, to make sure Yoongi stays safe, then home.

It was a dangerous game that Hana liked to play, just one more. Just one more bit of information to extract, just one more hostage to hold, just one more... She was greedy, and it got results, but she cut it fine far too often for Yoongi's liking.

She had been twiddling the ring on her middle finger, watching the way the light caught in its antique cushion-cut opal, when the empty space next to her was filled by a Herculean figure. Despite the low lighting, it was clear as day that he was a handsome man. His jawline was defined, resting a few inches above broad shoulders. The shadows in the room cut deeper in certain places, accentuating a soft dimple on his cheek and the angle of his cheekbone.

A satisfied grin took hold of Hana's lips.

"Just one more of whatever she's drinking," he told the barman. He glanced down to Hana and ran his tongue along his bottom lip, biting down on it slightly. "In fact, make that three more."

Hana couldn't help but smirk. Finally, someone greedier than herself. If only she hadn't already been a few drinks deep, she would have noticed that, like her, he also cut lines far too fine, and liked to play dangerous games.

But she had been drinking for a little while now, and Yoongi was otherwise distracted. Work mode was switched firmly off.

"H," She stuck her hand out for him to shake. She never revealed her full name. It was more fun to make people guess. His tongue ran along the bottom of his teeth as the corners of his lips raised just a little. He loved nothing more than a challenge, and that was precisely what she was giving him.

He took her hand and shook, amused by her formalities, and chose to play her at her own game.

"JK."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: and so it begins. currently working full time but I am going to try and update this as often as possible!! I'm excited.