Aion had gambled on this last test. Not on whether or not the boy would fail to comply - there was no doubt in his mind about that. People often thought themselves prepared for violence, thinking they could have enough presence of mind to respond and react. What they rarely thought about was the shocking swiftness with which it could be committed. The speed with which a life can be snuffed out, if one only had the resolve. No, Aion hadn’t gambled on Davis.

He’d gambled on Juniper.

A strange blur of white filled the bottom of his vision, startling him for an instant, until it revealed itself as the back of Juniper’s head. In an instant she had passed straight through him like a phantom, through the counter, and had disarmed the boy with swift efficiency. Aion grinned, this one genuine. She hadn’t hesitated at all! Hadn’t even flinched. He glanced down at poor Rudy, the back of his drooping head a ruined mess. He felt nothing for the man. It hadn’t been personal. Nor had it been professional. Rudolph owed money, but he hadn’t been important enough to warrant a death mark. Before tonight’s events, Aion had been planning on nothing more than extortion and threat.

No, Rudolph had been both example and test.

Aion’s fascination grew as Juniper phased Davis’ gun to pieces. He had suspected her ability to include phasing inanimate objects after watching her demonstration with the pool cue. This, coupled with her threat to pull Davis’ bones from his body, all but confirmed it. Aion made a mental note of this. And her expression, her voice... She spoke and looked...bored, as though the thought of deboning a man were merely an unpleasant chore, like ironing or doing the dishes.

She was becoming all the more valuable.

Aion didn’t react as she let Davis go. He watched the boy scramble through the back, listening to his panting and weeping as the faint sound of a door slammed shut. There was a graveyard silence for a moment, save for the dripping of Rudy’s blood. Aion sighed and put the snub-nose back into his pocket. He raised his brows at the girl. “You sure? He knows your face.”

Stepping around the widening pool of blood, Jack approached the security door between him and behind the counter. “Can you give me a hand with this?” he asked, all trace of threat gone from his aura.

He let the kid go and that was alright in her books. Instantly the tension she had been holding melted away and she offered a tight, wry smile. "So does the mob." She shrugged.

Juniper humored him and headed for the door, reaching out to get her fingers around a solid part of the metal, and pulled the whole thing right out of the doorframe. It was normally a heavy single solid piece, meant to keep standing even with someone trying to kick it down.

She turned and pushed it, letting it fall with a roaring clatter on the dingey floor.

"So which one is it, Aion or Jack?" She absently kicked away a live bullet that had fallen out of the dismantled gun.

Ah, there it was. Confirmation. She had crossed paths with the mob at some stage. “Hn. Employment, or did you piss somebody off?” New York had a number of mob families and affiliates. He figured it best he didn’t mention that if she was on the list of anyone he worked with, they’d have probably already met.

His brows drew upwards as she lifted the door straight from its hinges like it were nothing. He gave a small snort of amusement. “Full of surprises...” With a nod of appreciation he stepped through the open threshold and made his way to the register, seemingly oblivious to the corpse phased through the cage next to him. With a jarring ring, the cash drawer slid open jerkily. Jack began emptying its contents onto the counter in front of him, small stacks of notes side by side.

She asked him about his names. “Both. Either. Jack personally, Aion professionally. Depends on the nature of the relationship.” He grinned at the girl. “So I guess it’s up to you. Safe’s behind that cabinet.” He jerked his head towards a battered filing cabinet, a small wall safe hidden behind it. “Put what you find over here.”

Now for the final test.

He kept a his awareness of his surroundings sharp. “Keep an ear open. If the kid is half as stupid as he seemed, I don’t want this ‘Joseph’ shooting us in the back,” he said, walking towards the back door. Reaching into his coat, he drew a suppressed 9mm from his body holster. He took cover against the wall beside the door, listening for the sound of any movement behind. Slowly turning the handle, he paused a moment, before pushing it open a crack. Pistol raised, he glanced through the doorway to see what was behind.

"Someone paid me to kiss someone and get pictures of it for blackmail. Guess they didn't appreciate it too much."

The Phaser offered a bland smile back to him after opening the door for Jack. "I don't like locks."

She watched, not bothering to move from her spot by the empty doorframe, as he set about doing something with the money from the drawer. She didn't know what he intended and rightfully didn't care. After a moment she turned her attention to looking around for cameras. Lots of pawnshops had them, the footage ended up in the news all the time then someone inevitably murdered someone and tried to pawn their wedding ring or something.

"Okay, Jack then." The only professional relationships she had were with Cora and the scary red-head instructor at school, and even then it was hard to remain professional around them all the time.

She blinked at him when he directed her to the safe, silently pondering over whether that had been an order. Was he robbing the place? After a moment she shrugged inwardly and headed over toward the cabinet. It was pretty big. Taller and wider than her, but that had never really been a problem for her before. All she had to do was concentrate on grabbing the outside frame, phase it, and everything on top and within tumbled to the floor in a heap, drawers included. She casually set the large frame off to the side and turned back to the wall where the safe was now uncovered.

She didn't wanna just pull the whole thing out of the wall though. Too much of a sign that her specific power had been used. She could fix the body, the dismantled gun, and the removed metal door. She couldn't put a wall safe back just the way it had been. Instead, she pulled the door off, pulled the hinges out and tossed them, and let the door fall into the pile she was standing in as if someone had expertly managed to pry it off. There were a few weapons inside, more stacks of bound money, and an assortment of what looked to be fine jewelry. Comically, she attempted to gather it all into her arms in one go and fumbled the lot of it over to the counter as he had instructed. Ony dropped like, two rings, too!

"Okay... annnnd.... now what." Wait, why was she even here? She had her Banjo! Maybe it was due to Jack being a charismatic enigma that she kinda wanted to puzzle out a bit more? Eh. Probably.

She stooped to poke the pieces of gun she had left scattered around on the floor, into the floor, forever hiding them within the skeleton of the building itself. Unless someone was gonna start excavating through the tile she doubted anyone would ever find them, or the fingerprints she had left on them.

Jack didn't seem to think it was over, which wasn't surprising because was it ever really over? Bad guys in the city never seemed to be able to wrap their heads around the concept that they lost and they should quit while they still had their heads.

She hadn't heard anything to make her think they were about to be attacked, but she also had the general awareness of a drunk gnat, so she was probably just going to have to side with him here and assume the worst. Muttering to herself about stubborn people, she popped her head on through the wall and peered around the other side.

It was clear from what she could tell. A back office with the door closed to one side, a small door with a bathroom sign on it. Some large cluttered shelves lining a few walls and a back door to an Alley that was wide open.

"Looks clear to me." She stepped all the way through, headed for the back door to close it and something large and white on the floor caught her eye.

Juniper froze in her tracks as she found herself looking at a dirty, blood-stained mattress on the floor. it was tucked in a corner between the large shelves. There was a large metal pipe that ran from the floor to the ceiling beside it, with a rust-colored pair of handcuffs hanging from it.

The open door and any threats from outside faded to the back of her mind and she mulled over how much she suddenly regretted letting Davis go.

He stepped through the doorway, not bothering to answer her question. She had followed his lead so far, when she had been more than capable of taking the money and running. No reason to think she’d bolt now. No contacts in the back room, only the wide-open exit to the alley. Juniper stepped through the wall moments after. Warily, Jack holstered his pistol. “Seems that way,” he replied. Making his way to the shelves, Jack grabbed two small duffle bags from a pile. He turned and saw Juniper frozen mid stride. He followed her gaze. He saw the mattress. He saw the stains and the mess. He raised his brows, genuinely finding himself surprised. He hadn’t thought Rudolph had had the balls to get his hands this dirty.

“Hn. Guess he was getting desperate,” Jack muttered to himself. He took a moment to watch how Juniper would react. So far, she hadn’t flinched, even from a point-blank execution. Still, everyone has their limit, their line.

Well... Mostly everyone.

“Hey,” he said, softly but firmly. He waited until he had the girl’s attention, before nodding towards a small open laptop set on the desk, surveillance footage displaying the mess they had left out front. “Can you delete the footage?” he asked. Better to keep the girl focused.

He stepped out of the back office and back to the counter, setting the bags down on either side of the pile. Into one he placed the jewellery, the weapons, and four stacks of cash from the safe. Into the other bag, everything else. Loose cash and the rest of the bound money stacks. A decent haul, all considering. Satisfied, he carried them into the back office, placing them down.

“I’ve settled what Rudolph owed.” He pointed to the back containing the weapons and jewellery. “I wasn’t sure if you were in contact with a fence, so I’ve accounted for the hard items.” He pointed to the bag with cash only.

She’d passed the tests. Time to see whether she was ready to graduate.

“That,” he began, looking Juniper in the eyes, ”is your share.”

Her nose wrinkled slightly. Desperate. It felt like Davis' ID was burning a hole in her pocket.

She turned away when Jack called for her, thankful for a distraction. "Sure." She wasn't a computer whiz by a long shot but she felt like she knew enough to tackle that task at least. It wasn't password-protected, which was great, but... she couldn't quite figure out how you were supposed to permanently delete stuff. Like... cops had ways of fishing through files to find what they wanted, right?

In the end, she plucked the motherboard out and snapped it in half, phasing both pieces into the floor as she had done to the gun.

Re-joining Jack out in the front she set about dropping Rudy from his metal prison. She left his body where it fell in a heap, and set about putting the metal door back up and onto the frame like it had been opened naturally.

She spared a glance at Jack as she finished up and her hands went back into her pockets. "I don't use fences." What she typically stole didn't require fences. Her eyes flicked to the stuff he'd apparently left out for her.

"Eh, no thanks. Normally I'd probably take you up on it but all of that money is probably filthy. All yours if you want it, dude." She patted the instrument still hanging securely behind her back. "I already got what I came for."

Jack’s brows rose, his expression somewhere between bemusement and disappointment. “Oh, most probably. Still, seems a strange line to draw after helping me out here. You sure?”

A thief with a conscience? Moral codes were tricky bastards to navigate. His gaze flicked to the stained mattress. He shrugged, crouching to tip the contents of her denied reward into his bag. He zipped the duffle and stood. Smiling, reached into his pocket and pulled out his own small roll of notes, making a show of wiping it on his sleeve before holding it out. “Consider this a commission, then. Cleaning service. Saves me the trouble of hiring someone else later.” He would, of course, ensure that someone was sent later, despite how thorough she’d been. He had a standard of professionalism to maintain.

He grinned, and held out the money. “Or, if you’d like, a down payment. For possible...future employment opportunities.”

Hefting the duffle onto his shoulder, he rolled his neck, small pops issuing from the joints. “You want a drink? It’s been a busy night. I feel like we should talk.”

"Yep! Totally sure." She didn't have any bills to worry about right now. Not for a while, actually. The score she'd made off with after all that fun with Zek had left her wallet pleasantly padded for quite a while.

His offer earned a few blinks and she didn't reach for the money he offered; his own personal stash apparently. Was.. that a job offer? That was new. She hadn't thought to work with anyone in, um... a less than legal fashion again after the last Bank job had gone south.

She felt slightly bad at the spark of interest that sprang to life in her chest and offered a surprisingly easy smile in return as she finally accepted his offer. "That sounds fun. Though, I don't normally shake people down for money, or-" Ignore the body on the floor, Juniper. "-work with others, really." She supposed she could blame Blue for helping to make her less physically repulsed at the sight of a dead person. It was still bad and she still didn't like it all that much, but nothing was quite as bad as the smell of a burning person.

The phaser visibly perked at the mention of drinks, and at the same time, a little factoid came floating back to her.

...Oh, @#$%, she'd gone and run away and left her bandmates back at the bar!

A brief flicker of awkward panic flashed in her eyes before she ran a hand through her hair and forcibly calmed herself.

"You know what, yeah. That sounds great actually. You got any places in mind?"

She would... uh... just tell Xander it had taken all night to track her thief down. Totally believable!

He inclined his head as Juniper accepted his offer. “I imagine most people would slow you down. Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find work more suited to your talents.” She was a solo operator then. That was a plus. Less baggage attached. A brief war of emotions played out on her expression, before she accepted his offer. He smiled.

“Yeah, I know a place. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He headed to the back door, pointedly ignoring the mattress in the room. Pushing it slowly open, he checked that the alleyway was clear, before holding the door open for Juniper.

It wasn’t a far walk. Only a few blocks away. Jack walked contentedly in silence, a smile playing at his lips, his posture relaxed and upright as he walked. Like he hadn’t just murdered a man. It long ago. The Rudolph job hadn’t gone quite the way it was meant to. His client probably wouldn’t weep any tears for the late pawnbroker, but there might be smoothing over that would need taking care of. Still, it worth the future headache. His client would most probably buy Rudolph’s place outright now, and Jack had a new associate in the making.

What a marvellous night!

He led Juniper down a small set of stairs to a small basement dive bar, tucked away from obvious sight. There was no sign on display. He rapped his knuckles on the door, which was opened by a large, dark-skinned bouncer. The sound of music and the smell of tobacco wafted from inside. The bouncer nodded respectfully. “Evening Jack.”

Jack returned the greeting. “Julian.” He gestured for Juniper to follow. Julian offered Juniper a friendly nod in acknowledgement.

It was a small, smokey, and sparsely populated place, like something out of the 1960’s. Booths lined the walls, tables spread across the floor. Classic movie posters lined the wall in gilded frames, accompanied by a variety of photographs. There was a jukebox in the corner, old rock music currently being played at a tolerable level. A classic floating bar stood in the centre of the room, polished mahogany glinting in the dim light. An old man stood behind, polishing the bottles on the shelves. He turned and beamed a welcome to the newcomers. “Jack! Good to see you. The usual?”

“Evening Sam,” Jack said with a smile. He nodded and turned to Juniper. “What’s your poison?”

Outside eyes might have found the whole thing absurd. So casual about murder and robbery, and then a drink after. It was right up Juniper's alley though. Controlling your emotions was key when half of the time they were @#%&ing out of whack anyway, and she had never liked being too easy to read.

She also didn't mind the silence. She wasn't great at normal human-speak anyway, so not having to put any effort into a conversation was quite a relief. The bar, which she momentarily wondered about, was downstairs. Basement bar. No sign, so... not for everyone?

... There were entirely too many gangs in the city.

"Hiya." She wiggled her tiny fingers at the bouncer as she passed, noting how much bigger than her she was, and also what the inside of the door looked like in regards to locking. You could never be too careful, even among...uh... associates? God forbid one of [/i]them[/i] happened to be there, too. She'd be fricken stuck with no way out.

The bar itself was like nothing she had ever seen. She could sneak in shitty dive bars and parties pretty easily, and clubs were virtually on effort. ... Technically she could sneak in practically anywhere with no issue, but that wasn't the point. This one hadn't even tried to card her!

The vintage flare was more than a little distracting and the jukebox, in particular, caught her eye. She'd seen a few before but they were usually pretty gimmicky, fake, or just plain didn't work.

The bartender captured her attention again and she tore her gaze away to focus on him. "Oh, um. Could I get a Black Russian, please?" And then she stood, slowly taking in everything around her while fiddling with the strap around her shoulders.

Sam turned to fetch the drinks, and Jack sat the duffle onto the floor. He closed his eyes for a moment, seemingly enjoying the music. Sam’s place had been a second home to Jack once, many years ago. Way back when, Sam’s father had been the one pouring the drinks until a heart attack got him, but other than the faces, nothing changed in Sam’s. Jack used to spend his time here, either trying to find an easy woman, or trying to drink away the idea that he was a monster of a man. An increasingly pathetic drunk who dived further into the bottle to seek solace in delusion. A man who tried to forget the horrors he took pride in, no matter how much he had tried to convince himself that he didn’t.

Luckily, Jack had made peace with himself since then.

Sam returned. Placing two napkins down he sat the Black Russian before Juniper and a glass bottle of cola before Jack. Jack thanked the barman, and gestured to a booth. Setting the duffle down, he slid himself in with his back to the wall. Jack took a long, refreshing gulp of his drink. He stared at Juniper, as though trying to puzzle her out. The absurd thought that it had been decades since he had last sat in this bar with a pretty blonde for company wormed its way into his brain, almost causing him to chuckle out loud.

He had questions, of course. Had had them since the girl had literally fallen into his life.

“What do you think?” he asked, gesturing around the venue. “A bit retro, but I find most bars too noisy and crowded for my tastes these days.”

She hardly batted a lash at his choice of drink. Why would it matter to her in the long run. Instead, she focused on how clean the cup was Sam had given her, and how pretty the drink was. She hardly ever had time to just, like... look at stuff when at bars. She was generally there for a reason and had never been one to beat around the bush.

...heh.

She did happen to look over and catch Jack looking at her and paused with her cup literally at her mouth to silently raise her eyebrows at him. In the recent movies, she had been slowly catching up on, staring at someone about to drink something was apparently a mechanic of that drink being 100% poisoned. Jokes on them though if that was the case, she was really bad at death by poison. On accident, even.

She finally took a big sip, licked her lips clean, and blinked at him for his question. "Mm." A surprisingly pleasant and genuine grin wormed its way onto her face in an instant. "It's really cool! I like it." She could agree with the last bit of what he said readily. Large crowds anywhere weren't her favorite thing.

"Kinda reminds me of a Place in Nashville Called 'Honky Tonk'. They were all super western themed and had a billion old posters up everywhere. They were a lot less... refined, though."

She shot a smiled the Bartenders way, which reminded her of something all of the sudden, and she fished out the cash Jack had given here and tentatively placed it on the polished countertop.

"Uh... tip?" It was a question and a statement since she didn't see a familiar tip jar with a billion signs pointing at it, or some sort of written offer that larger tips would earn less clothing on the bartender.

... Considering who was serving her that made a lot of sense.

Jack watched as Juniper gave Sam the money he had given her. Sam for his part, smiled politely and accepted the tip, thanking the young girl before returning his attention to the shelved bottles. She seemed eager to not come out of this night with a profit. Jack took another sip of his cola. Was it a moral code? Guilt? Perhaps she hadn’t been quite as at ease with tonight’s events as she had let on. Still, if that was the case, she had one hell of a poker face.

“For someone who doesn’t bat an eyelash at extortion and murder, you seem pretty determined to make sure you come out of tonight as poor as you started,” he quipped lightly, smirking at the girl. His tone was one of amusement rather than accusation. “Don’t like dirty money?”

He sat back, relaxing. He could tease this out if he wanted to, but that had more potential for misunderstanding. May as well get down to brass tacks and see where she stood. She had the stomach for action, that much had been clear. She was no stranger to crime. She had told him as much.

“Not that I’m judging. Just seems a curious contradiction.”

Juniper smiled back easily. "But I'm not poor."

Her cup was still full, and despite usually draining them fairly quickly when she usually went to bars, she didn't intend to drink for any explicit purpose here. "I already have everything I need right now, so more is just wasteful." Being raised in an environment where having anything that didn't serve a purpose was considered the beginnings of maximalism, too much money or too many things was just not something she had ever dabbled in. The thing she kept meant something to her, and the wealth she had secured was enough to keep her sheltered and with a full fridge for a long while.

"I got what I set out for." A little pat on her instrument as an example and her smile shifted into a grin.

"Nah, I don't really believe in dirty money in... I dunno, like a philosophical sense. Like, it's just paper and ink. Who cares where it came from in the end?" She crossed her legs under her easily and propped her head up on a palm, elbow on the counter.

"Like, in a physical sense, yes, money can be dirty, and you couldn't pay me to touch that stuff back there. Probably smells like sweaty palms... but your money was fine. Just don't need it."

She lifted her cup a little bit and swirled the liquid inside around. "Besides, you're always supposed to tip the bartender where I come from."

She sipped at her drink, "What did you want to talk about? I doubt it's about my eccentric habits with money."

His brows rose, before he laughed lightly to her response. The girl was a curiosity. She had a moxie that Jack admired, and an air of self awareness that most people were sorely lacking. He wondered if maybe having the ability to simply take what one needed, when one needed it, made the idea of excess for money unnecessary. Most people stocked money like squirrels stocked nuts before winter. Or gorged themselves on it like a fat man at a buffet.

A lack of greed. What a worthy trait for a criminal!

Juniper jumped to business. Jack grinned. Time to cast the line.

“You’re right. I’m more interested in that ability you’ve got, and how I could hire it out for specialised employment. Or whether you’d even be willing to...” He pursed his lips, making a show of exaggerated contemplation. “I had been hoping to appeal to your sense of greed and avarice, but as it turns out, that’s not going to work. So I’m sitting here wondering what I can offer to a girl who can walk through walls, and who can make problems disappear...” A facetious sigh. “Excitement? Pride and satisfaction in a job well done? Risk and adventure? Friendship?” He tapped his finger to his lips. “Business?”

He shrugged and leaned forward to catch Juniper’s eye. “I dunno... What tempts you? What are you after in life, Juniper?”