Banksy woke to find a summons had been slipped under his door during the night. Yawning, he ran a hand through his curly hair and dressed slowly, careful to make sure his appearance was as pristine as possible, before heading downstairs. With measured steps he approached Servilia's desk, holding up the summons.
"Good morning!" He greeted with a smile.
"It's afternoon, actually," Servilia responded. Her voice dripped with judgment that cut through Banksy like a hot knife. "A request was recently put in for a ripping. I'm putting you and another member on it."
"Perfect," Banksy said, trying to regain some of his confidence and swagger despite the disapproving tone. "I'll go wake up Cross then and we'll head off."
"Actually, Cross is not available. He's on leave," Servilia said, flipping though a file and double-checking her words. "Yes, right here. Galen has requested at least a day of bed rest and no jobs for at least a week."
"We never listen to Galen," Banksy protested.
"Alexis also made it emphatically clear that none of her team were allowed to go out on missions when injured."
Banksy balked at her words. "Lexi isn't a team leader, she can't make that call. She doesn't rank any higher than me or Cross!"
Servilia gave him a blank stare. "Would you care to inform her of this? By all mean, please do so. I would enjoy watching the show."
Banksy went silent for a moment before slowly shaking his head. "So, I'll go get Lexi then. Tell her we have a job."
"Wrong again, I'm afraid." Her sapphire eyes dropped back down to her work. "The Mistress has already picked a partner for you."
"Who?"
"You and Romeo have been assigned this job."
"What?" Banksy all but yelled, hearing the words said at the same time behind him. He spun around on Romeo, his hands balling into fists as the blonde stared at him with contempt. "Why?"
"Not my call," Servilia said with a small shrug, reaching up blindly and snagging a paper. She tossed it towards them. "That's the job, do try not to cause too much trouble. It causes more work for me."
The paper floated by Banksy and landed between the two boys, neither of which made to retrieve it.
"You gonna pick that up or just stand there staring like an idiot?" Romeo snapped, pointing at the paper."
"Oh I would, but I wouldn't want you accusing me of stealing again." Banksy took a step towards Romeo.
"At least this time you would have the decency to do it in front of my face! Finally learning something from me?" Romeo took a step towards Banksy.
"Oh right, I forgot. Two wrongs make a right in your world?" Banksy brought up his fists.
"I was just correcting what you ruined in the first place!" Romeo replied, his voice rising to match Banksy's and his fists coming up.
"Maybe you should learn to hold on to the things you care about better then." Banksy cocked back his fist and Romeo did the same, they both took one step towards each other, closing the gap, when Cross stepped between them. Completely unperturbed by their actions, he bent over and picked up the job file with his left hand and took a bite from the apple he held in his right. Munching happily he read over the job, completely ignoring the two boys who starred daggers at each other around him.
"Looks like fun," Cross finally said after a few more moments of reading. "Need me to courier the item after you retrieve it?"
Cross's words were finally enough to snap Banksy out of his rage. "What?"
"I said, need. A. Courier?" Cross repeated slowly, holding up the job. "I want to get out of town for a bit."
Banksy glanced back at Servilia but received no help, as the young woman did not so much as glance up. "Uh... Servilia said you're on leave, so..."
Cross sighed, looking at Servilia. "Really?"
"Take it up with Galen or Alexis" Servilia said, still not looking up, as she filed another job order.
"Yeah, apparently this one is only for traitors." Romeo called from behind Cross. Banksy flared up immediately.
"Takes one to know one!"
"You wanna settle this right here?" Romeo yelled, pushing a wide eyed Cross out of the way. "Come on!"
"Fine with me!" Banksy roared as he swung his fist.
There was a sharp pop and a flash of fire and smoke. With a scream Romeo and Banksy dropped to the ground with a variety of colorful curse words, their hands pathetically trying to cover their eyes. Above them, Cross took another bite out of his apple, the bracer on his other arm smoking from the discharged flash bang.
"Oh yeah, you two are going to have fun," he said, dropping the paper between them and walking away. "Right, then. Don't embarrass the family if you can manage."