So Good To Be Bad [Donatello]

Chapter 8

Momo slept through the morning, since she was out till sunrise collecting from the acquaintance on the phone. The young woman also refused to leave her contact's home until certain the turtles wouldn't be out on surveillance. Now that Momo had one piece to the puzzle there was one other thing that needed to be taken care of. Dialing a number, it rang twice before being picked up.

"Good day for a walk," the man on the other end spoke.

"But it may rain so you'll need an umbrella."

He chuckled in response.

"Bastille," she greeted.

"Momo." The young woman could hear him grin on the other end. "Long time no talk. You hurt my feelings."

"Well, the feeling is mutual. I don't see you picking up the phone and giving me a call."

"I'm a busy guy."

"And I'm a busy woman. Listen, I've got a job for you."

He hummed in approval. "Another one of your gigs? You haven't asked for my help in a long while."

"Haven't had anything you'd be interested in. But this time, what I'm asking for isn't standard."

"When are any of your jobs standard when you ask for assistance?"

"Touché."

They shared a laugh before getting down to business. "So, what are you taking this time?" the male wondered.

"Actually, it's the other way around."

"Oh, really?" His interest officially peaked. "Momo, you are always full of surprises."

"I'll be there at sundown."

"You know where to find me," he sang. Both hung up.

Using the metro, Momo kept to herself as civilians came and went throughout the train car. She wore sunglasses with earphones in place so no one bothered her. Even though no music came from the device tucked into a pocket. With such an item in her possession she couldn't be distracted, aware of her surroundings. Finally, she came to Koreatown. Coming to a building, and walking through the front door, the old man at the counter nodded in the young woman's direction when she made her way through the back. The hatch leading into the ceiling was already down allowing the thief to climb up. It shut on its own behind her. The space could easily be mistaken for an attic, knocking on a panel of wood. It opened seconds later. What sat on the other side hardly reflected the dismal, dark, abandoned area around them as the young man grinned down at her.

"Momo, right on time as always," he greeted.

The living room had been designed as a wide-open floor plan and had an attached kitchen. Any up and coming socialite would be jealous because it was the perfect setup to host grand parties. The floor to ceiling windows lined the main street with tailored one way viewing for privacy. It also adjusted to the lighting outside so during the summers the occupant never felt blasted by the heat. Bastille's own invention that he was very proud of when they first started working together.

His dark skin was flawless as always, complimenting high cheekbones and prominent dimples whenever he smiled. His dreadlocks were tied back by a band, while a pair of goggles sat atop his head. Funny, it almost reminded her of the purple turtle's appearance in that sense. There were two circular piercings at the end of one brow, and a tattoo peeking out from under the collar of the t-shirt he wore.

"You're too good looking for your own good, you know?" Momo voiced.

His hazel eyes showed amusement from the compliment. "You point that out every time and flattery will get you everything," Bastille said. "Come on in. I can't wait to hear all about this reverse gig of yours."