Mikau: Hi all! This is my entry for Poirot Café's Super Short Contest 13: Mess. I had originally written something else, but it ended up being too long, so I went into chat on the forum and asked for a pairing. Neonquincy1217 suggested "Gin and Vodka". After I was done falling out of my chair and exclaiming "What?!", I had two thoughts: "hiding a body" and "they killed the wrong person". And this happened. ^.^; I actually kind of like it, but it's total nonsense. And not an actual romantic pairing, by the way…in case you were concerned…or looking forward to something. Enjoy, and let me know what you think. This is my first time working with these two.

Disclaimer: If I owned it, I wouldn't be able to write serious bad guys. They'd end up so ridiculous and Team Rocket-y that you wouldn't be able to take them seriously. ^.^;

…

Cocktail Hijinks

"Aniki?" Vodka called hesitantly as he compared the dead man's ID with the picture they'd been given of their target.

"What?" Gin snapped like a viper, making Vodka wince.

Gin did not like it when anyone interrupted his post-kill ritual. Usually he waited until after they'd returned home to the company apartment, but tonight he'd decided that the abandoned warehouse down by the docks was a remote enough location that he'd be able to complete his routine without being disturbed. He was just finishing up his breathing exercises now, and Vodka was beginning to wonder if Gin had the lavender scented candles with him…or if they'd be making a stop at some new age-y boutique on their way home. He knew they'd be going through the drive-through at Starbucks to pick up some vanilla honey chamomile tea that Gin would sip as he sat in lotus position in the back seat of the car, meaning that Vodka would be driving, and he'd better drive smoothly because if Vodka hit a bump and spilled the tea or—God forbid!—threw off Gin's zen…heads would roll.

But Vodka had other things to worry about, namely: "Aniki, I think we offed the wrong guy."

"What?" Gin's voice was deadly quiet as he cut himself off mid-om, slowly opening his demon-like eyes and rising to his feet in the jerky fashion of a possessed marionette.

Vodka reluctantly repeated, "I said that I think we—"

"—I heard you, dolt!" Gin roared, stalking over to the body and unceremoniously grabbing it by the collar, lifting it to inspect the face (now plus one hole through the forehead) as compared to the picture of the hit.

After a full minute of careful study, Gin let out a string of curses that made even Vodka blush.

Once the tirade subsided, Vodka ventured to ask, "What are we gonna do, Aniki? The boss isn't gonna be too happy when he finds out we messed up."

"He's not going to find out," Gin firmly decreed, leaving Vodka to stare dumbly at his partner, his mouth hanging open in a baffled, "Huh? But—"

"—He's not going to find out," Gin repeated, and Vodka wondered how they were going to arrange that miracle.

Thankfully, Gin elaborated on his genius plan to make their problem go away: "All we have to do is not call in the cleaners. We'll dispose of the body ourselves, go find the right target, dispose of him, and then call the cleaners like nothing ever happened."

Genius! Now why did Vodka doubt that it would really be that easy? And why did he get the feeling that he would be doing most of the messy grunt work in this endeavor?

"You're amazing, Aniki!" Vodka made sure to properly kiss up to Gin's "superior intellect" as the blonde liked to refer to it. "What do we do first?"

"Put the body in the back seat," Gin ordered, lighting up. "Sit him up straight, and strap him in."

And the grunt work began.

"Yes, Aniki," Vodka docilely assented. "But won't it look suspicious if anyone sees us driving around with a dead guy in the back seat?"

"They're not going to know he's dead!" Gin snarled. "They do it in movies all the time. We just have to pretend he's still alive, and they'll let us pass the checkpoint without a problem."

Vodka blinked, pausing in the middle of lifting the body off the concrete. "Checkpoint?"

"Yeah. The police checkpoint we drive through on our way out into the mountains." Gin's explanation only engendered more confusion.

"Aniki," Vodka grunted as he dragged the two hundred pound corpse towards the car. "Wouldn't it be easier…if we just drove him out on the docks…and dumped him in the harbor?"

Gin glared at his partner in a mix of disgust and disappointment. "You have a small mind not capable of elaborate schemes. This is why you'll always be a dumb thug."

Well, excuse Vodka for not having vision. It just seemed a lot easier to drop the body in the nearby harbor than to haul it out into the mountains.

"Yes, Aniki," Vodka sighed, continuing his dumb thug work. It took some effort to maneuver the hulking corpse into the vehicle without getting blood or worse on his clothing.

Before he could complete this task, however, a small beam of light nearly blinded them, and an authoritative voice called out, "Hey! What are you guys doing in there?"

It was a cop on patrol. As soon as Vodka saw the uniform, sweat began to bead on his brow, and he wondered how Gin was going to sweet talk their way out of this one.

Though, apparently Gin didn't feel like talking.

The cop didn't have time to un-holster his gun before he was on the ground, forever silenced.

Vodka wanted to ask Gin in exasperation if that had been strictly necessary, but he didn't dare question Gin. Instead he remarked, "Good shot, Aniki!"

"Quit fooling around admiring my work and help me get this guy in the car," Gin reprimanded.

By "help", he meant for Vodka to do the work entirely on his own. Not that Vodka was at liberty to mind with a psycho like Gin for a partner.

"What's the plan now, Aniki?" Vodka wondered. The back seat was getting awfully full awfully fast. If they had trouble at the checkpoint on their way out to the mountains, they were going to run out of room in the car…and one of the corpses was going to have to sit on Vodka's lap because heaven forbid Gin's personal space be violated.

"We're going to dump the bodies in the harbor and get the hell out of here," Gin began to speak sensibly. "Driving out to the mountains would be a waste of time, and we need to stop by Starbucks before they close."

"What a great idea, Aniki!" Vodka praised, all the while wondering if it would be possible to get a less deranged narcissist for a partner. He knew the others were all crazy, but…maybe Vermouth or Bourbon wouldn't be quite so…

"And I need to make a pit stop in Harajuku to pick up some candles while we're out," Gin added.

…ridiculous.

The

End