Note: thank you!! Remus would be very proud XD
Trigger Warning: referenced sexual stuff, guns, knife, paranoia, hinted at violence, potential fight
Word Count: 1,698
Roman seems surprised when Janus calls him to ask to come with him to Dice's shop, but gushes about the wedding and how they really deserve it and all that sappy stuff so Janus thinks he's okay. Especially because he's about to break it to Roman about how he will be his brother's best man, not walking him down the aisle. "So, finally decided to take me up on my offer to help you pick out an outfit?" Roman asks when Janus meets up with him outside the shop.
"Hmm, something like that," Janus replies. Truth be told, he's here to ask for Dice's opinion on the collection of outfits he's bought and how to connect them all into one. Oh, and the best man news to Roman of course. "Shall we go in?"
"Probably," Roman laughs, opening the door. "Dice can get a little... rude to people who loiter."
"Ah, a man after my heart." He walks in, letting the door close behind him as he gazes around the shop. It's not big, but not small either. Premade clothes hang in racks around the front room, with bolts of fabric lining the walls from ceiling to a foot above the ground, cabinets taking up the rest of the space. There's a desk in front of a portion of the fabric, grand, but not over the top. Clearly Dice has good taste, if he made almost everyone's wedding outfits and has good taste in interior design.
Of course Roman's glancing around like he's about to be jumped, so perhaps it's too soon to say. "Alright Roman, why exactly do you seem to think we're about to be killed?" Janus asks, roaming over to the yellow fabric along the wall. It's an impressive collection, from the finest silk he's seen in a long time to soft cotton and some intriguing polyester fabric, the type that usually makes up common athletic wear nowadays.
"I am not!" Roman cries indignantly, following after him. "It's just weird... usually Dice is out here terrorizing people or about to criticize everything about someone, or obsessively moving things around to fit with his never ending changes in taste. I swear, the layout changes every five days..."
Janus fights down the hair-rising feeling at the back of his neck, thankful for his constant layers that keep anyone from noticing the slightest tension that enters his body. He has tried so hard to keep his work life out of his personal life, wearing snake scales on half his face or a birthmark if he has to be more secretive, always using accents and changing his way of speaking to hide as much about him as he can. But there are some things that can't be dropped as soon as he returns home to his family, things that aren't as easy to get rid of with a makeup wipe. Scars that aren't just physical, or never were.
Paranoia can always be a tool for a spy, but it can also be a spy's downfall. Trust too much, the operation falls apart. Trust too little, and soon no one trusts you either. It's a fine line of balance, that often bleeds not only into missions, but paperwork, life, family, even love. He's done all he can to keep it from tainting his family, from tainting Remus, but it bleeds over anyway.
He takes a deep breath before shifting over to the patterned yellow fabrics. "Roman, from what I know about this urban legend Dice, he's fine. Most likely just had an idea or whatever popped into his head and didn't hear us enter. Give him a minute," he says, fingering a snakeskin pattern. "I am so sending Remus a picture of this." He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture, quickly typing out a text to the family chat.
famILY
snek: at dice's shop w ro , something's off
royalty: snek is right, something's wrong
royalty: we'll try to get out of here
snek: give us 2h w safeword
royalty: love you all
snek: love Remus and maybe the rest of you peasants
Janus laughs as he double checks that the messages went through before putting his phone away. "Remus is dying over the pattern as I thought. Is he sending you anything?" He asks, turning to Roman, who's scoffing as he puts his phone away as well.
"Just gay panicking as usual," he replies, rolling his eyes. "And said some things I really wish he'd keep between you and him. I mean, I do NOT need to know how much he wants to see you in snakeskin for..." he coughs, blushing, "yeah."
He winces but internally preens at how well Roman remembered his training. Not as formal as Janus would have liked, but everyone got enough that they can act calm. It does help that Roman's the most professional actor in the family, besides himself of course. "I'm sorry. It's not too bad, right?"
"Oh, it's much better than the shit I used to get from him in high school and college," Roman laughs. "He has a fixation with you and your hat-"
"Oh I'm well aware of that," Janus smiles as Roman sputters, moving towards the dressing rooms at a leisurely pace, pausing to finger other fabrics or gaze at the higher ones nearer to the ceiling.
"Wh- then you know about the-" Roman cuts himself off and Janus turns, smirking at the man becoming an interesting shade of scarlet.
"As I distinctly remember, he sent you pictures of what he specifically wanted to do to me, but of him?" Janus teases, pausing behind a rack of clothing and pretending to admire a ruffled ebony silk button up as he eases a knife into Roman's pocket, thankful he's leaning in to admire the shirt as well because it helps his hand off.
"Ugh, don't remind me of that!" Roman groans, moving away from Janus as quickly as possible. "I broke my phone because I threw it into a wall at the sight! Virgil had to call Logan in the middle of a class to convince me not to drown my eyes in bleach!"
Janus cackles as he moves to stand next to Roman at the doorway to the dressing rooms, where he's sighing into the door frame. "I know, that's why I brought it up," he laughs. "Now come along, Dice is probably in one of these back rooms. Lord knows that's where I would be if I had a shop like this, not up at the front where," he shudders dramatically, "people are."
Roman laughs and shakes his head, letting Janus take the lead into the dressing rooms. "You joke, but that sounds exactly like Dice." Janus risks a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure no one can look into the hallway before setting down his bag and pulling out a gun. Roman, bless his soul, doesn't react and keeps talking. "His shoppers are people, and yet he hates them so much, honestly doesn't make sense to me." He checks the room and finds no one or any clues so he continues to the next one, Roman right at his heels with the knife in hand. "Always claims people have no taste or sense of style; people he somewhat likes still can't live up to his standards but they're apparently not as bad as the rest? I don't know, he's a strange one."
Janus nods, clearing the next room. "I bet. From what Emile and Logan have told me, he can be tricky to deal with." If he remembers their descriptions correctly, which he probably does, there's only three more dressing rooms, then the back rooms. "But if the outfits I've seen are any testament to his skill," he clears the next room, still nothing, "then he must be worth it, as you've brought at least one of us here for every wedding." He curses internally, knowing the problem now. They picked up on how Roman took one of them to the shop for every wedding, and the footage of Remus' proposal circulated the internet, which means they knew either he or Remus would be here, which means this is planned. Another clear room, only one more to go.
"Oh he is so worth it, the guy's pickier than Peter who picked a peck of peppers," Janus groans, "but he's got more than enough talent. Not surprising, I think he used to work on Broadway in the costume department for a few years." Janus clears the last room, heartbeat pulsing. Where are they? Where are the hidden people with guns, the signs of forced entry, the signs of a struggle?
"I can't imagine what would make someone change from Broadway to a shop here," he says, slowly approaching the door to the back rooms.
Roman has his back to Janus', guarding his back just like he taught him. "I think he hated that he didn't have complete control there." Janus eyes the doorway, bending down to check that it isn't tripped wired. Lights are on, casting no shadow evidence of a trip wire. "I don't know if you've picked it up yet, but Dice had a bit of a thing about control and probably is OCD." He checks the hinges; doesn't seem to be supporting more than the usual weight. "I mean, I've never asked because I value my life, but I'm just saying, he probably does." Janus touches the handle with the barrel of his gun for a few seconds then pulls it back to touch the barrel. Still room temperature, so it's probably not heated.
"Mmm, from what I know of Dice, that does sound realistic," he replies. He taps Roman's shoulder then gestures that Roman should stand back a bit. Roman, thankfully, does as he's told for once. Janus takes one, two deep breaths before aiming at the average torso height and slamming the door open.