Chapter Text
Robert Robertson was a stupid name, he was aware, thank you. He credits it for the thick skin that let him walk out of that conference room without punching that motherfucker in the face. But boy did he want to. He wanted to, badly. He knew he could get away with it too, he could have clocked the guy square in the nose and based on the other faces in the room they wouldn’t have stopped him from really having at it. But his father wouldn’t have wanted that from him. He wonders what other things he has held himself back from because of his younger self’s patchwork knowledge of his father. Had is really been fifteen years? It feels like he was just telling Robert to clean his room on his way out the front door.
It was nights like this that Robert tried to avoid. He had just shambled down from the billboard he mistakenly kissed Blonde Blazer on. (She wasn’t into it, she hadn’t been leaning it, he was a dumbass for taking the chance.) He was drunk and when he was drunk, he could hear his father more clearly than ever, what were you thinking Robbie.
Don’t call me Robbie, he thought back.
What little he remembered of his mother always tried to make an appearance as well but it was more of a feeling than a voice. Even the drunken imaginings of a person needed concrete information to, you know, inform the voices in his head. He wasn’t creative enough to just make something up on the spot. All he remembered was the outline of a body with really sad eyes. She was sad and then she left. Maybe she would have said something comforting like, it’s okay Robert you tried your best and sometimes people have their own things to deal with.
Nah, that was just him saying that to make himself feel better. And honestly, thank god someone attempted to steal his wallet just then because who knows how long he would have walked before realizing he needed to get home and prepare himself for the potential of an office job in the morning.
“Hey, I’ve already been beaten up tonight by some skittle-coded reject villains. Just let me have my cards and you a keep the cash, Bunny Manders.”
“Who the fuck is that?” A woman said just before appearing in front of him and taking a hit from a red inhaler. In her other hand was his wallet. He stuck out his hand expectantly.
“The sidekick to notorious gentleman thief A. J. Raffles.”
“Was she hot?” She said coughing through the fluticasone in her lungs.
“He was a book character, and I don’t know. Now, can I have my wallet back?”
“Fine,” she said dragging out the last syllable and slapping it into his outstretched hand. It sent a spike of pain up his back. “Why him instead of this Raffles guy… or I don’t know like some really hot lady thief like Bonnie.”
“I think she was a murderer.”
“I could be a murderer,” she quipped.
“Maybe, but you don’t really seem the type.”
She seemed startled by that. Robert dug through the wallet checking to see his ID and credit card were still in place. The ID was most important for the job paperwork tomorrow and he didn’t want to hassle the people that seemingly believed in him… it was a wild concept.
“Listen, I’ve got twenty bucks in here. You can have it if you need it,” he said, pulling out the worn bill. It was soft to the touch from being folded multiple times.
The woman looked from the bill in his hands back to his face. She appeared to struggle with what to say next, her hands gripping at something intangible in front of her.
“Nobody has ever willingly offered me money after I’ve tried to rob them, are you stupid or something?” She said rather defensively.
“Maybe, but it’s no skin off my nose,” he said.
“No, I don’t fucking need it,” she said pulling a cigarette from a box in her jacket pocket. “I have a job, not that it will probably last long.”
“I get it, I’m in between right now, got an interview tomorrow,” he tucked the bill and wallet back into his jacket.
“You’re weird,” she said taking a drag from the cigarette.
“Believe it or not you are not the first person to point that out,” he said and moved to walk forward towards home before stopping and looking around. “I don’t even know where I am right now.”
“Can you really blame me, you were an easy target all spaced out like that,” she fell in step with him. “So, what the fuck happened to you to make you space out that bad?”
“It’s a long list,” he said, trying to deter her.
“Hey, I’ve got nothing but time Raffles.”
“How did I become Raffles in this situation, I’m the victim.”
“You said he was a gentleman thief. You seem like a gentleman to me, even if you are stupid.”
Robert sighed to himself, still walking. What did he have to lose, it’s not like he’d ever see this woman again.
What were you thinking Robbie?
Shut up old man, he thought.
“Well my dad died, I spent my life savings trying to keep his dream alive, failed at that, lost my job, got rejected by the first woman I showed interest in in a long time, and now I’m injured, drunk, and walking home at 2am talking to a stranger that tried to steal my wallet,” he said keeping his eyes forward.
“Jesus,” she said taking another drag and holding out her cigarette. “You want some of this?”
“You know what, yeah I do,” he said taking a drag from the cigarette still situated between her fingers. God, it felt good.
“You know,” she started leaning in a bit, “if I can land a job and try to turn stuff around, anyone can. And you’re anyone.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you suck at pep-talks?”
“Fuck you, I’m amazing at pep-talks,” she laughed taking another drag and flicking it into the street.
“Uh huh.”
“You just aren’t getting the full effect because you’re drunk,” she said, slapping his shoulder.
“Right,” he said dragging the word out sarcastically.
“I’ll show you, next time when you’re sober, I’ll give you the best fucking pep-talk you’ve ever had.”
He looked over at her raising his eyebrow.
“Give me your number genius,” she said holding out her hand. He doesn’t know what compelled him to listen to her. She was a thief, albeit a pretty, funny, actually really pretty, thief, but still a thief. Maybe it was to shut up his father asking him what the fuck he was thinking on repeat in his mind, but all he knows is that when he looked at her new contact in his phone listed under “Bunny” the voice muffled.
“Text me sometime and I’ll show you,” she said. Her eyes met his with suggestion. It was probably a bad idea but he texted the new number and said, “Raffles.”
“I’ll see you around,” she said before, quite literally, disappearing in front of him. He heard her footsteps on the asphalt as she crossed the empty street before he was alone again, and it was silent.
“See ya.”