Oops!

James had only been that high once. Whatever his associate had put in that coffee, made him trip like never before. Damn, that was bad. James didn't remember too much, but he remembered something about purple grass, clowns in the air vents, and Patrick's mouth. The last one he thought was extremely odd, as Patrick wouldn't look at him straight now. Jonathan was also flashing him dirty looks in the rear-view mirror. He probably had said something he shouldn't have, but shit happens. Also he was there only chance at survival, so James was pretty certain Jonathan could get off his high horse, or he could go fuck himself. Either worked. They drove for a time in silence, until Patrick started the conversation as they reached Chicago.

"So... Where are we going now?" He asked, while giving a nervous glance towards Jonathan, who stared angrily back at Patrick.

"I'm sorry," James began," Did I miss something?" He said looking between Patrick and Jonathan.

"Oh nothing much," Jonathan said sarcastically," Only you kissing my boyfriend!"

"Well that describes the memory about Patrick's mouth,"James thought.

Patrick's face turned bright red, and he remained quiet. Jonathan didn't.

"I loved you Patrick, but you didn't even resist when he kissed you!" Jonathan told him. When Patrick didn't respond, he started again. "Did you hear me! I'm talking to you Patrick Kane! Tell me the truth!"

James got fed up soon, as he could see that Jonathan's screaming was beginning to make Patrick tear up.

"Jonathan, shut the fuck up!" He began," I was high, and I accidentally kissed Patrick. I am stronger than he is and he probably couldn't get me off of him. He still loves you, and you should be happy that you found the person you love, many others do not. Grow up, and get a pair!"

In Patrick's eyes he could see a mixture of thanks, hatred, and want. While in Jonathan's all he could see was jealousy.

"Where do we have to go?" Jonathan asked, his tone bitter.

"To our residency for the next few weeks. Trump Tower."

"Isn't the tower dangerous?" Patrick asked.

"Not for me. Also if I'm an up and coming business mogul, do you really think our cover would work at Motel 6?" James replied.

"No, of course not," Jonathan replied sarcastically.

James ignored him, and the three of them sat in silence until they pulled up to Trump Tower. James had to get out, and show his ID and notification of residency so they could enter the parking garage. After inside they parked in his designated spot. There James pulled out two Cubs caps. He handed one two each of them and explained that each of them had a small LCD light in them, that when on blocked your face from cameras. They both put them on and they carried their cargo into the building. The room was quite nice and spacious. It also had a beautiful view of Chicago. For a time they all unpacked in silence, until James saw Jonathan and Patrick talk to each other, and kiss. James presumed that they had made up for each of their discretions. James had little time to enjoy the sappy moment, as he had other work to do. He made a phone call, and left the room, leaving the other two alone.

James drove the car until he was parked on a secluded part of the bank to the Chicago River. He waited for the person he called. It took them two hours to finally arrive. James was surprised to see that the person drove a Bentley, as he had not seen the person as the type. When the car parked, a balding man with white hair, and a mustache stepped out.

"Joel Quenneville?" James asked.

"Yes?" Coach Q replied.

"Good," James said before pulling out a pistol and shooting Coach Q in the chest. Q screamed and fell to the ground, blood oozing out of the wound in his right chest.

"You shot me?!" He said incredulously.

"You're observant," James replied.

"Why?" He asked wide-eyed.

"Earlier today I received information from an informant of mine," James said showing Q the paper," It says that an old friend of mine Marcus Dobson, will be attending a 'Hawks game soon, and that you got him tickets. I asked myself why, until I realized that he would have provided the easiest path to a job in NHL coaching. Now, you can deny that all you want, but we both know it's the truth. Marcus and you were in correspondence, correct?"

"Y-Yes," he replied flustered.

"Excellent," James started talking again, as the pool ofblood started to spread gradually, "If you want to live, then you'll write down how you can contact Marcus, and where he's residing currently." He threw a pad and a pen down near Q, who began writing frantically. After he was finished he handed them both back to James. He also began to shiver violently.

"Q, I'm sorry for this but I'm going to have to leave." Q gave James an evil look, but James only smiled.

"Shit ain't person, strictly business, ya dig?"

"Fuck you!" Q replied.

"I have a boyfriend who does that for me," James replied with a smile," Oh, and Joel, do you know how to dance?" Q didn't reply.

"Such a shame, I do a wonderful jig. Maybe I'll do it on your grave," James walked off with a cackle. The night was about to began, and as Q was about to find out, it was quite cold.

Notes

Next Up: Marcus!