Part of the Family, Part of my Life (Pt. 1)
roguishredrobin answered your post: Attention!
Mafia!AU. Tim’s the Boss, jay is is bodyguard/lover. >3
"Listen here, these shop owners are good people," the lean, young man coolly declared. He gave a sheepish grin and continued, "So if you wouldn't mind, we'd like for you to stop harassing them. Now get off our territory"
Tim "Red Robin" Drake was standing at the head of an alley, hands casually in his trench coat's pockets, and shoulders laid back. At his side stood Jason "Red Hood" Todd; bodyguard and general dirty work man. Jason's fingers tapped restlessly at the case he was holding, eager to work his gun. It seemed to Jason that every week his boss was sticking his neck into some new pile of shit, and as his bodyguard, he had to clean up the mess. Sort of.
"Oh yeah? Well our boss, he's pretty damn sure it's our territory," the thug strained to reply. He stood up, revealing his towering frame, topping out at nearly seven feet. He stepped away from the shop's back door and into the pool of light from the alley's lone light bulb. His crazy grin opened a wound of stained yellow teeth on the thick field of grey make up that covered his face, "And I'm pretty sure that I can take on a squirt like you."
"Oh my. Jason it seems the Grey Face Gang is getting cocky again," Tim tutted rhetorically. He motioned for the case Jason was holding, and dialed in the case's lock combo. Smiling at the brute's confused look, he popped open the case and pulled out what looked like a toy gun, "You see this little gun here?"
"Wazzit supposed to do?" the grunt laughed, "Shoot marshmallows at me?"
"As amusing as that would be, it doesn't. This gun is 3D printed. Untraceable, and built completely in house. You can't profile the bullets since there's no rifling. We've even made some custom ammo."
"Blah, blah, blah, I dun give a shit!" the brute lunged forward, pulling out a knife from a side holster.
"Remember," Tim crooned, "You don't bring a knife to a gun fight."
He brought the gun up in a fluid motion and took aim. If anyone had seen Tim's face, they would have sworn that his eyes changed in that split second before he squeezed the trigger. There was a small muffled bang, and the bullet launched forward, through the barrel, and out the small silencer. After mere microseconds in the air, it touched the grunt's forehead and continued straight through his brain, silently shredding what little grey matter he had.
"Pity," Tim intoned, as he side stepped the momentum-carried corpse, "If the poor mook had any brains, we could have brought him in. There's always work for a big fellow like that."
Their numbers were small enough, but they were effective. They held the third largest territory in the city. Tim handed the gun to Jason, to be taken off and melted down to make more guns. Tim turned around and started to wipe off his hands, as Jason set to work.
Tim hadn't actually used special ammo. He used ammo that could have been used in another gun. A gun that so happened to be used in a robbery just last week. With all the fingerprints and DNA to lock up a rival gang member. Jason smirked as he slipped on a pair of gloves and pulled out the red herring. He placed it ever so randomly on the ground, and then pulled out the kit to remove evidence of his boss being there.
"You finished yet?" Tim called out. He looked over his shoulder, "I'm feeling a little flustered after all that. I might need to relieve some steam before we get the next job done."
He laughed and started to slowly walk off. Jason just rolled his eyes and smiled.
