lupintrois | (no subject)

The worst heists, in Lupin’s opinion, were the ones nobody knew about. Delicately, in the background of Zenigata healing from his wounds and Lupin gently romancing him into staying in bed, a war played out across France - an informant leaked here, a safe house exposed there, all so delicate and subtle that the media barely noticed it. Pawns were moving but neither man had worked up the aggression to shift their more powerful pieces as they tested each others limits. The key was using just enough power that Albert knew he meant business...and knowing that he’d take losses in the meantime.

Fine. Albert knew better than to try it all at once, anyway, with what Lupin held on him. The stress of it was frustrating, even so, and distracted him from planning anything more fun for his new situation with Zenigata...until things escalated to him planting suspicious data in the office of one of Albert’s underlings, and with an Interpol social event happening right down the hall Lupin decided to multitask.

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"So talk theft," Zenigata says, as he gets comfortable. He is not content, but he is comforted. Lupin is here, and Lupin is even being -- or at least convincingly faking -- being empathetic and attentive. "I like hearing you talk about the bits and pieces. Not even to take it apart, but--"

It's terrible and awful, it hurts people, but the thing that build the crime as fascinating. It also has nothing to do with what's going on in his life right now, which is a rarity.

"Oh, you sweet talker." And Lupin obliges, purringly, describing his grand schemes to one of the few people who'd truly understand them. (Albert would understand them. But Albert wouldn't tell him how clever he was for them. Boring, pathetic man.)

They're halfway through a second heist when the door bell rings; Zenigata checks the peephole, then carefully accepts the delivery and makes sure things go unseen.

"Come eat," he calls, and starts plating up. "You can--"

Well, they can get interrupted by the cellphone. Zenigata doesn't go in for fancy ringtones, it's just a standard trill. He speaks briefly, moving back into French to speak to someone named Claude, and wanders back into the bedroom as he says, 'that was fast. what were the results?' and closes the door behind him for a brief moment of privacy.

It's done in less than five minutes, and he returns, pocketing his phone, and grabs broad, flat Pad See Ew noodles for himself.

"Come on, don't be on the clock while we're having a nice night," Lupin pouts, sulking that he's not getting full attention. "Is it really that important?"

He knows it is. That's why he's asking.

Looking up from under his heavy, bushy brows, Zenigata contemplates for a moment. Then he says, "Was ballistics. They matched the bullet I had pulled out of me to a gun. Belonged to the officer found dead today."

Then he slurps noodles right up, because this isn't gonna stop him from eating.

"Few things as bad a crooked cop," Zenigata said, wiping sauce off his face with a napkin. "I try and make sure my boys leave better than they came, but I guess I missed one. Or two. Not sure."

"Mmm." Not sure where he can fit a ribald jibe into a remark that dark. Lupin reaches for the food instead, stuffing his face to keep his mouth shut. "Sorry about that."

Not much you can say.

"Guess you weren't kidding," he says in the most conversational tone, "about how big this is."

It's right there on the tip of his tongue. Lupin's not telling him a lot here. He knew something -- he knew something about Albert d'Andresy, knew enough to mimic him in pitch perfect tone, knew enough to hate him, to shit talk him, to...

To protect him from Zenigata? Or Zenigata from him? He settled on the latter. There was no love there, Albert wasn't someone Lupin woudl protect. Not unless they were tangled up so much that it'd reveal too much about Lupin...

Huh.

"Blaise Desforge was one of mine, too. Watanabe came up after him, and he moved to Desforge's team after that," Zenigata says, keeping his tone neutral. "Desforges works very closely with French authorities, he's local. I was sourcing information on Albert d'Andresy from him."

He put another wad of noodles in his mouth, slurping his food down before he added, "Hope he doesn't turn up dead, too."

Edited 2021-05-10 22:48 (UTC)