"Security detail," Percy Boots unceremoniously dropped the dossier onto his boss's desk. "Really? You have the best lock-picking, sneaking, smooth-talking secret agent that money can buy, and you're putting me on security detail?"
A dark chuckle. "Most people say 'thank you' when they get invited to parties."
Percy snorted, "Not when they're a glorified bouncer. Come on! Don't you at least have something you need me to steal? Someone you need to grab the dirt on?"
"And here I thought you hated gossip duty." A crazed smile ripped across his face. "I magnanimously let Mirriah take care of it."
"I swear to Grimm, Romeo," Percy crossed his arms, flexed his claws. "Give me a real explanation... or else I know a shipment of silk that's just begging to be scratched."
"I guess I can't keep anything from an agent as sly as you," Romeo V. Cupid rested his chin in his hand, clearly not meaning a single word. "And it's 'Director M' when we're at work, kitty-cat. You know I save 'Romeo' for the bedroom."
Percy raised a dubious brow. "Cut the Director M shit. What the hell does M even stand for, you pretentious dick?"
"Montague," Romeo clicked his tongue. "Ever hear of Romeo and Juliet? Lovey-dovey, stabby-stabby... sound familiar yet?"
"Whatever," Percy rolled his eyes. "I'm outta here. Got silks to scratch, gold to steal."
"Have it your way," Romeo shrugged, offhandedly returning back to his game of darts. "If you don't care about the elusive Lady Rabbit who keeps sneaking into these parties, no feathers off my wings."
Percy's ears seemed to perk up. He pivoted on an exceedingly fashionable heel. "Catching rabbits... now that's what this cat's all about."
"Well," Romeo toyed with the dossier. "If you'd bothered to read past the first page, you'd know all about her."
"First page was boring as hell," Percy yawned. "Made me take a catnap. Next time, maybe include less architectural notes about the party's location."
"It's a highly secure magical museum," Romeo threw a dart almost carelessly. Bullseye. "Naturally, of course, the Mages' Council sprung for yours truly to plan it. Opening night gala for an extremely exclusive, heavily guarded collection of magic shoes-- I thought you of all people would be eager to get in."
"What's the point? Blah blah blah, bulletproof cases, alarms that go off if you breathe too close to them, golems rising from the floor, top-security cutting-edge death curses for anyone who lays a hand on the collection," Percy cracked his knuckles. "If I'm going in, I want to go in to steal them, not watch them from behind a pane of glass and a lethal security system. I might be the best agent in the realms, but I'm not a curse-breaker, and I sure as hell don't have a death wish."
Romeo lifted a photograph from the dossier. "You know who this is?"
Percy frowned at the picture. "Uh, a nerd? Mages aren't exactly my expertise."
"This," Romeo gestured grandly. "This is Professor Celadon West of the University of Oz. Two-time winner of the Innovation in Witchcraft Award and the head of design for this particularly... scintillating security system. This nerd is the only one who knows how to break those curses. And to sweeten the deal... the witch of the East happens to be willing to pay a hefty sum if I make sure he disappears for a little while."
"So you kidnap the guy, cash in the reward, and then we interrogate him about the security system... to ultimately get those legendary shoes," a sly smile slid across Percy's face. "I call dibs on the break-in."
"I wouldn't even think of sending anyone else," Romeo flicked a feather off of his fingertips. "However... there is one snag in the plan. One snag that I want you to clear."
"Nothing stands between me and a damn good pair of shoes," Percy's gaze darkened. "Name it."
Romeo held out a second photo. "Her."
Sleek, elegant... stunning. She had soft, silken ears that protruded beautifully upwards, a flawless counterpoint to the scooped neck of her dress. Long, long white hair that hung to her waist, expressive eyes, her mouth twisted into the moue of a frown.
Percy gave a low whistle. "That's one hell of a rabbit."
"She was at my last party-- you know, the one where you stole those enchanted bullets," Romeo patted the guns at either side of his trim waist, as if checking those bullets were still there. "She was at a party three months before then, too. The CEO assassination. Problem is, she's never been invited to one of these things... we think she's a cop."
"Her?" Percy's eyebrows raised. He analyzed the picture for a moment. "Maybe, yeah, I could see it."
"I had Ryusei hack into the security cameras. Apparently she shows up pretty consistently... once every three moons," Romeo flicked the picture in Percy's direction. "There's reason to believe that she'll turn up tonight. Just keep the lady occupied... maybe find out a few things about her. Like her name, maybe. Or if she has... suspicions about the party planners."
Percy caught the picture. She really was very beautiful... a thought which made him narrow his eyes suspiciously. "Y'know, it's not like you to pass up a chance to flirt with a femme fatale undercover. Why aren't you taking this mission for yourself?"
"Not my type-- Mirriah heard enough to know she's a total prude," Romeo fake-gagged at the very idea. Then, he grinned wickedly, "Besides... I heard Professor West specializes in Hellfyre explosions. No way I'm passing up a chance to fight against that!"
Of course-- explosions. That's what it had boiled down to in the end.
Percy shook his head, "You crazy son-of-a-bitch."
"Why, Percy," Romeo tossed the last of his darts, his voice sickly-sweet. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
Percy snorted, faintly amused, and turned around, "Whatever, Romeo. I'll catch you later... gotta schedule a suit-fitting. As it turns out, I've got a party to attend."
Romeo flicked closed the dossier with a smirk, noting that Percy had forgotten to return the Lady Rabbit's picture.
--x-x-x-x-x--
All eyes seemed to turn towards the doorway as the heir of the Puss in Boots' legacy entered the museum that opening night. Percy grinned and polished his claws against his shirt, reveling in the attention as he continued to preen before their admiration-- he cut a particularly handsome figure in his tuxedo, his height making him stand out in all the best of ways.
He strode up to the display where a pair of re-created boots were shown, the originals clicking on the floor beneath his feet as if to remind everybody in the room just why he had been invited at all in the first place. Though Percy had refused to part with his own shoes (for obvious reasons), he had generously allowed a bootsmith to create a non-magical, non-heirloom replica.
(Well, okay, in exchange for seventeen other pairs of custom-made shoes. But hey, the aesthetic pattern of his boots was a valuable commodity, and honestly, that bootsmith had been such a chump to let himself get talked into the deal. He was practically begging to be allowed to make shoes that would go on the feet of the Percy Boots.)
He scanned the room for a moment, seeking out their mysterious Lady Rabbit, preparing to have his eye catch upon her, preparing to create that moment of startling eye contact that always took away his target's breath.
There she was, in the corner, not too far away from the dessert table-- a sweeping neckline, a slitted dress, an elegant, bright-statemented heel. He was prepared to connect with her eyes, trailing his own gaze up the lovely figure she cut... until he realized that she wasn't looking at him. She was glancing sideways at one of the gentlemen sampling something from the dessert table, seemingly not having noticed Percy's entrance at all.
He frowned. That was new.
Drawing his expression into a charming, confident grin, Percy sauntered over towards the refreshment stand, occasionally winking at a passing socialite or waiter, causing dozens to swoon in his wake. He was certainly no less attractive than usual, at least-- but the Lady Rabbit would not direct her attention towards him, not even when he moved to stand directly beside her.
He cleared his throat. Still nothing. He tried smiling at her. Nope. Eventually, he moved himself directly into her line of vision, thinking that she was maybe just distracted. Now she was sure to notice him.
Unsurprisingly, she did. Surprisingly, the first words out of her mouth were thus: "Can you stop that?"
His smile faltered for a second, so briefly that it may very well have been a trick of the light. Then, he turned up the charm full blast.
"Sorry, sweetheart," Percy ruffled his hair roguishly. "I was just wondering what a gorgeous little bunny like you was doing in this corner, all by your lonesome... I thought you might like some company."
"Ugh... I don't want company, and you can just forget about whatever it is you're thinking," she huffed, flushing faintly red. "I'm not interested."
"You sure?" Percy wiggled his eyebrows, trying to at least eke a smile out of her. "Maybe I'm just thinking that I like your shoes. Maybe I just want to ask you where you had them made."
"They're my mother's," she answered shortly, giving him a glare. "And I don't think you've heard of where she had them made, if that's what you want to know."
"I've been to every cobbler this side of Ever After," Percy quirked a brow at so blatant a challenge. "Try me."
"Tranquility's," she crossed her arms. "That is the name of the shoemaker's store."
It took Percy a few seconds to sort through the many, many cobblers he knew of. Then, smoothly, "Tranquility's... I've always wanted a pair of boots from the moon. You have excellent taste in footwear, Miss...?"
She ignored the question in favor of re-asserting herself. "I said that these shoes are my mother's."
"These babies used to be my dad's boots, too," Percy gestured at his own shoes with all due reverence. "Back when he was still a size twelve, I mean. Doesn't mean I don't look fabulous in them. I just wanna know if this fashionable lady happens to have a name... at least so I can let Tranquility's know who recommended them."
"I don't care to have my name associated with you at all," she reddened further, visible even through her diaphanous veil.
"Why wouldn't you want to have your name associated with me?" Percy leaned in close, brushing a bit of hair from her face. "Scared I'm gonna try to chase down other rabbits?"
"No," she blushed indignantly, pushing his hand away. She pointed in the opposite direction, "Because of that!"
Percy glanced over her shoulder. The several swooning ladies and gentlemen he'd left in his wake were beginning to cause a hallway hazard. There were already multiple puddles of spilled champagne and at least three broken glasses.
"I don't see what the problem is," Percy grinned crookedly. "It just looks like a regular party to me."
The rabbit sighed and crossed her arms, glancing off to the side. "If I give you my name, will you leave me alone?"
"Depends," Percy shrugged easily, pilfering a sweet off the dessert table.
"On what?" her ears stood up, alarmed.
"On whether you want me to leave you alone," Percy answered, popping the round, chewy substance into his mouth. He paused for a second. Then, glancing quickly in either direction, he dragged over an entire plate, resuming his casual stance.
"Yes, I want you to leave me alone," her ears seemed to press backwards against her scalp as she furrowed her brow. Suddenly, out of nowhere, "Why are you eating those?"
"What? Are they supposed to be part of the decoration?" Percy swallowed, mid-chew. "Actually... I don't care if they are. They're really tasty. Have you tried one yet?"
"Yes," she clenched her jaw. "I have. The ratio of glutinous pillowing to elasticity is all wrong. And the bean paste has too much sugar in it."
Percy paused and looked down at the mochi between his fingertips. Maybe his eighth one? His ninth? "Maybe you got a weird one. They taste just fine to me."
"Just fine?" Her eyes widened. "Just fine?"
"Yeah," he turned his head to the side and looked at her oddly. "I like them."
"You like them," something in the woman seemed to deflate. Suddenly, she stiffened. "I... have to go."
"Hey!" Percy pushed himself off the table. "Your name--"
"Ugh!" she exclaimed, her brow furrowed irritably. "Just leave me alone."
With a huff, she swept away so quickly that Percy almost choked trying to swallow his most recent mouthful (an incident which hadn't occurred, by then, for years). Not particularly wishing to lose his quarry, and even less willing to compromise the syndicate's plan by failing at security detail, of all things, he followed her out of the main corridor into the halls of displays. She was pretty fast, he thought, but Percy was more dexterous, more accustomed to chases in winding halls and especially around museum cases.
He leaped upwards, vaulting himself over the case which contained Cinderella's Glass Slippers, and cornered her at the end of the hall.
"Why are you still following me!?" she rounded on him, scowling. She sniffled a little... and Percy realized, in that moment, she had been crying.
Though Percy might have been a notorious flirt and playboy, broken hearts were Romeo's thing-- not his. He winced a little, and tried not to feel sorry for her by doing the only thing he knew how to do, anywhere and any time.
He lied his pants off.
"Look," he began. "My, uh, friend plans a lot of parties around these parts. He's been worried about uninvited guests ruining his careful plans for high society... there was a rumor going around that someone was going to try to sabotage the party tonight. Of course, as a master of recognizing dubious dealings, he asked me to keep an eye out."
"I don't believe you," she scrambled for a handkerchief, pointedly glaring at his feet. "The Puss in Boots is famous for being a thief."
Percy affected a light-hearted roguishness, "My friend happens to be pretty rich... wealthy enough to, ah, spare a small loan for a helpful friend, if you get my meaning."
"You're despicable," she spat, but at least she seemed to believe him.
"You're the one who snuck into the party uninvited," Percy proffered a handkerchief of his own.
She glared at him but accepted it anyways, embarrassed at having been caught crying. As if to cover up that moment of vulnerability, "Does your friend really not know who I am?"
"He knows you're not on the guest list," Percy raised an eyebrow.
Suddenly, a muffled noise. For a second, Percy was concerned that she was crying again, but then, the noise came again, and he realized, abruptly, that she was trying to muffle her laughter.
She fumbled for something in her sleeve for a moment, before holding out a single, professional business-card. Celes Mochigome, it read, Celestial Catering, Desserts & Sweets Division. Pastry Chef.
At last, she managed to choke out a sentence, "What sort of party planner cannot recognize his own caterer?"
Percy pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh inelegantly... 'trying' being the operative word.
He was holding his aching sides and almost crying by the time he managed to say, "Oh my god. Romeo's gonna be pissed."
"Stop laughing!" Celes ordered, barely able to keep a straight face herself. "It isn't funny!"
"Are you kidding me? It's hilarious," Percy cackled. "I'm gonna make sure he never forgets this for the rest of his life!"
"You are awful!" Celes covered her mouth with a hand to conceal the fact she was smiling, and affixed him with a glare as best as she could. "You've wasted both of our evenings, and now I'll never find out what people think about my mochi. Aren't you even the least bit sorry?"
"I'm not really an 'apologies' sort of guy," Percy shrugged, brushing back his hair. "As to your mochi, it was probably the best thing I've ever eaten. That's what people think."
"You are a liar and a flatterer," Celes huffed, flushing furiously. "And if you are being truthful, then you have never eaten a half-decent mochi in your entire life, which I refuse to believe."
"I think I just ate about a dozen of them," Percy grinned with a roguish wink.
"I hope you lose your figure," Celes scoffed, glaring off to the side.
"What's that about my figure?" Percy smirked. "You think I have a figure?"
"What I think is that you just consumed over 3,000 calories in mochi," Celes crossed her arms. "It's not healthy!"
"Wanna help me burn some of those?" Percy wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
She turned red all the way up to her ears, proclaiming hotly: "Excuse me?!"
"I meant, by dancing," Percy leaned in casually against Celes' side. "What did you think I was offering?"
Celes glared at him pointedly, but did not edge away. "I think you know exactly what that sounded like."
"Can't blame me for trying," Percy reached for her hand. "Come on. Dance with me. I think I hear a tango starting up."
"Just a dance?" Celes shrunk away slightly from that touch.
"A dance. Maybe two dances, if you want," Percy paused. He smiled slyly, "I owe you at least half a decent evening... and even if I didn't, I sure as hell owe myself one."
"Fine," she relented. "A dance."
Thus did Percy Boots spend the rest of his evening dancing with the fairest of the many maidens there at that gala, the mysterious Lady Rabbit, the pastry chef Celes. It was a terrible waste of his talents as a secret operative and he knew that-- but screw it, he was dancing the tango with a beautiful girl, and getting paid to do it was just the icing on the cake.
And so, when Romeo texted him for back-up, Percy only answered with a "busy" and went right back to dancing. After all, the so-called illustrious Director M could take care of himself... and honestly, thought Percy, he kind of deserved it.
It was his own damn fault he couldn't recognize his regular caterer.
--x-x-x-x-x--
"So," Percy crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at his employer. "Still think it was a good idea to put me on security detail?"
"Shut up," Romeo bit, wincing as his sister Chariclo tied a bandage around his burn wound. "I got the guy and I still have both my arms. And I only had to stab him like, once!"
"Be honest," Cupid glared at him and yanked the bandage tighter.
"Fuck!" Romeo winced. "Fine. I stabbed him like, twice. Tops. Second time was really more of a... stabby-slashy movement. Didn't get the dagger all the way in. Whatever. He's alive. We can still interrogate 'im."
"After he recovers from being stabbed," Cupid carefully extracted a scorched feather from her brother's wing. "You'll have to be really careful with wearing sunscreen for a couple of days... hopefully this'll make you rethink the entire Golden Gun thing. I'm still not sure I shouldn't tell dad..."
"I'm just living my destiny of betrayal and backstabbing," Romeo rolled his eyes. "Tell dad to buzz off."
"You know," a sly smile spread over Percy's face. "This could've all been avoided if you'd just remembered what your own caterer looked like. You know. The one you've been hiring for like, the past two years."
Romeo groaned. Cupid giggled.
"Well," she explained. "You have to admit... it's pretty funny."
"Percy," Romeo spat. "Get out of here."
"Whatever... I got better places to be," Percy grinned, twirling a business-card between his fingers. "A little bunny happened to mention something about macaroon-recipe experiments. Catch you later, loverboy."
Romeo rolled his eyes. "Right back at you, catass."
(The macarons were fucking amazing, by the way.)