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A text from Simon to Calamity: Barclay Prime. 8pm
do i gotta dress up
Yes.
ugh
the only suit i got is too big
I pay you enough to afford decent clothes.
u think im the kinda person who cares about a suit
ill be there
No response....
Barclay Prime is, no surprise, a very fancy restaurant--steakhouse, as becomes immediately clear when Calamity steps inside and catches sight of people eating varieties of expertly cooked and finely cut steaks. The restaurant is nice, and not overly crowded, with comfortable chairs and marble-top tables. Calamity spots Simon sitting in a far corner, with the tables around him conveniently empty. Not much threat of being overheard. Simon himself looks... pale, circles under his eyes, like maybe he has a cold, but otherwise he looks as flawlessly put together as always.
Calamity trots through the doors of Barclay Prime a couple minutes before 8. Showered, hair brushed, with slightly wrinkled dress pants and a blue dress shirt. Also wrinkled. They've even found a bowtie, pink and white and blue plaid, and the clothes seem to fit pretty well, despite their lamenting about their too-big suit. Very new dress shoes complete the look, like they maybe bough them on the way here, and they slide into the seat across from Simon.
"You look like shit."
Simon has the menu that he's idly looking over, glasses perched on his nose. He glances up towards Calamity, eyeing them a moment without commenting. "Have a seat." Then looking back to the menu. "Order what you want."
Calamity's clearly less interested in the menu than they are with Simon, and they give him an appraising look.
"...You got a...insomniac friend, don't you." They raise their eyebrows with a little bit of a smirk.
Simon blinks, then narrows his eyes. "What?"
"You know..." Calamity shrugs and rubs their neck. "One'a them. Allergic to the sun, and shit." They sounds more amused, than anything, and open the menu. "What's good here?"
Simon stares for a moment, lips pursing briefly. But again, no comment. He looks back at the menu. "They have... cheesesteak. You might enjoy that."
....It's $120 cheesesteak.
The suggestion gets a quiet scoff, and then their eyes widen and they start to cough in surprise. "Jesus fucking..." they mutter, and shake their head before moving on from that entree.
"Gonna have lamb," they mutter, and lean their chair back on two legs.
"So why'm I here? Ain't got shit for you, everyone's lying low right now. Circlin', waitin'."
When the waiter comes by Simon orders a whiskey cocktail and the wagyu new york strip with a side of the truffle mac and cheese.
Once they're alone again, Simon looks across at Calamity. "I'd like to hire you to... take a look around a place, for me."
Calamity does indeed order lamb, and tater tots, and a fruity sweet cocktail off the menu for themself, producing an ID with a slight eyeroll when requested. Then they sit back, looking bored as the server leaves.
"Oh yeah?" Their eyebrows twitch upward, as do the corners of their mouth. Trying and failing not to look interested. "Where and when?"
"I've been looking into who JBM sources their guns from," Simon says, looking casual but not speaking overly loud--confident but subtle. "They have a shipping company they use to transport goods. It's presented as a city works project, employing ex cons. But I believe it is a front to smuggle their goods over borders."
His hands folds together on his lap. "I would very much like to know more about their operations. They have a shipping center here in Philadelphia. Are you capable of sneaking in after hours?"
"...You want me to break into a JBM joint?" Calamity scoffs and shakes their head. "Must be outta your mind, I don't tangle with any of the bit organized shit. 'S how to get myself shot."
A beat pause.
"...How much're you gonna give me, 'f I do?"
"If you don't believe yourself capable of doing so without getting shot, I understand," Simon replies airily.
Their drinks are brought, and Simon immediately plucks his up to sip from. Once the waiter is away again, he continues.
"Five thousand. With a bonus if you impress me with the information you find."
Calamity frowns hard, when Simon suggests they can't do it. "'S not what I mean. I uh...mmm." They get a slightly hungry look in their eyes, at the dollar amount. "Do gotta figure out what I'm gonna do with all that...I'll see what I can get ya. No promises, not gonna stick my neck out too far. D'you got any shit about the place, or'm I gonna have to do all my own research?"
"I have not staked out the place, myself," Simon replies. "I would suggest doing some prep work before making the attempt. But I am not on any time constraints with this. I would rather have a job done properly, than quickly and sloppy." He sips his drink.
Simon pulls out a folded piece of paper from their inner jacket pocket to place down beside Calamity's drink. it has an address written inside it.
"Yeah I'm not gonna be stupid 'bout it. I know what the fuck I'm doing."
Calamity reaches for their drink, and when they pull their hand back to take a sip, the folded paper is just...gone.
"Good." He takes another sip. "I look forward to hearing your results."
"Gonna have to get a fuckin bank account, at this rate. Or at least a safe, 're somethin'..."
The food arrives with a flourish from the server, and Calamity leans over to start eating. Just as quickly as they had last time.
"That would be a good idea," Simon replies with a bemused squint. He pauses, watching Calamity as they start to devour a meal. An exasperated sigh, then Simon picks up his fork and knife to start slowly eating his own meal. Savoring each bite.
It is fucking delicious, at least.
Look, Calamity is used to scarfing down whatever they can that will sustain them, not savoring the delicacy of perfectly cooked lamb and potatoes.
The flavors of which probably clash horribly with the fruity drink they have. It doesn't seem to bother them, though, and they finish their meal a good while before Simon does.
"Place's pretty good..."
"It is. Surprised you noticed with how you inhaled it," he notes dryly.
"I'm hungry." Calamity shrugs. "You got anything else for me? I'm gonna go hunt down a milkshake otherwise. Doubt this place has any."
He waves a hand dismissively. "No. That was all."
"Cool." Calamity wipes their face with the cloth napkin that's crumpled up next to their plate (what class! they didn't use their sleeve!) and pushes their chair back to stand.
"I'll tell you what I find. See you 'round."
"Take care, Calamity," Simon replies, then goes back to enjoying his meal.
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