i'm a professional (bullet train/tangerine fic)

joburg

A/N- this is a flashback, so i just wanted to make that clear!!

"-and i was just standing there. my hands in the air, and the bitch still shot me?" ladybug continues on ranting, trying to sit perfectly still as you clean up his shoulder. he's sitting in your apartment, on a stool by the island in your kitchen. you stand next to him, most of your attention focused on his wounded shoulder, which definitely could've been much worse. "i just- i don't get it. and i thought he was the nicer out of the two? the fuck was i thinking, man." he adds on with a shake of his head, staring into nothing as he relives the past few hours of his night.

"i mean, i've never met the twins, nor do i know really anything about them, but they seem like a couple of fucking dicks, if i'm honest," you reply, your eyes still examining his bullet wound as your hands gently clean around the area. you're not 100 percent paying attention to every word he says, but you understand from his tone of voice and the sentences you picked up, that it's the right decision to hate the two men that effectively ruined the job for your best friend.

"you know what, not so sure they're twins," ladybug says, his tone sounding almost annoyed. hadn't you known, though, was that he'd been telling maria all day that they are in fact, not twins. so, having to repeat himself once again brought back much irritation to him.

you shake your head, a sigh leaving your lips. further inspecting his wound, you wipe up the last bit of blood that had dried in the past hour. you had been able to get the bullet out, as said before, it could've been much worse, and the bullet wasn't in that deep. "oh, stop it. everyone knows they're twins."

ladybug just subtly shakes his head, not wanting to argue further with you about this right now. you begin to wrap the bandage around his shoulder, trying to make it as tight as possible. he winces when you tug at it, but you just mumble a 'sorry', and keep going. you know he can put up with it, and it's for his own good that you fix his arm right.

"alright, think you're good," you sigh, brushing over the bandage on his shoulder. ladybug rolls his shoulder as he hops off of the stool, testing it out. based on from how he reacted, it didn't look like it hurt that much to you. "so, you said one of the twins shot you, who's the other?"

ladybug sighs as he looks up to the ceiling, ticking his tongue as he thinks back. "i dunno his name, and i really only saw him for a second, after i'd been shot. i heard him call out 'lemon', so i'm assuming that's the others operational name? but i didn't hear his name, no." he answers, bringing his attention back down to you as he puts his hands on his hips. "but he was pretty handsome, i must say. looks like some douche you'd be into."

you scoff with a laugh, tucking away the first bit of information he gave you for later. you mimic his actions, putting your hands on your hips as you stand in front of him. "first off, what makes you think every guy i'm into is a 'douche'?" you ask him, air quoting 'douche'. you mean, he really isn't wrong though, based on your 'dating' history and what he has to hear you ramble on about after you get home.

you've never had time for real boyfriends or going on real dates since you turned 18; since you became a contract killer. you're just so busy all the time, whether it's with training, setting up jobs, going on jobs, or finally finding a bit of time to yourself; which is very minimal. so, the only 'dating' you get, are occasional hook-ups, most of which, are 'douches'.

"and why would you think i'd be into this man?" you ask, not really letting ladybug answer your first question- which really was mostly rhetorical.

he shrugs, his shoulder surprisingly not bothering him as he does so. "ah, i dunno. he's just- he looks like one of those guys that knows what the fuck they're doing. i don't really know how to explain it; he just seems put together. and on top of that, his looks are definitely ones you'd go for."

you shake you head and sigh, subtly throwing your hands up by your side. "i think you lost a bit more blood than i thought from the shot. because i don't date, if you've forgotten that. and i'm not gonna go for some random guy from a competing organization, alright?" you say it like it was the most obvious things ever. even if ladybug didn't really mean for you to go out with the man or anything, you wanted to make it clear that you would not being going out with him— or anyone else, for that matter— any time soon.

ladybug cocks is head for a second, looking up to the ceiling as he thinks. "shit, yeah, i guess you're right. didn't this about the whole 'enemies' thing. so, yeah. don't go out with him," he concludes, as though he was trying to convince you to do that the whole time. "but butterfly, i mean, you're 22 for fucks sakes. if you hadn't had a real relationship since you were what— 16? you need to experience young love while you can. i'm serious," he says, but his tone is anything but that. he's smiling, he voice sounding playful and friendly, like always.

he's pointing his finger at you as he starts to back away, as if saying 'do it'. "shut the hell up, ladybug," you call across to him, but there's no real bite to your tone. "you're welcome for fixing your shoulder, by the way!" at this point, he's already down the hall and away from the kitchen.

"yeah, thanks," he calls back, and you can hear the amusement in his voice from yards away. you just shake your head, and for once, are actually thinking about what ladybug said. not about dating the other assassin, but just about dating in general. you begin cleaning up the supplies from the first aid kit off of the island.

"fuck this job," you mutter to yourself, balling up gauze wrappers and tossing them in the trash.