Blackpink Smuts

At Odds (JenLisa - G!P Jennie)

Patience was key in her line of work. Watching and waiting were quintessential aspects of the job, and never had that been more apparent than on the afternoon of June 18th, 2049.

It's just about five in the afternoon, and the honking raucous of rush hour plays out from six floors below her apartment. It's been a busy day; the lingering buzz of Adderall is still fresh in her veins, and though the stimulation is beginning to fade, she know better than to redose this early. Five milligrams of extended release at a time is a low dose, but it's always served her well. Stretching beyond that without good reason would inevitably just lead to addiction.

In lieu of taking another of those lovely blue and beige capsules, she instead light a cigarette. Yet another bad habit of hers that she has - at least so far - managed to curb before it became a real problem. The occasional cigarette, like the occasional Adderall, was fine. More than that. They sharpened the nerves, cleared the mind, relaxed the muscles. Hell, they might even make her dick bigger. Who knew what the untold benefits of moderate stimulant use held?

Chuckling to herself, she takes a slow drag and returns her attention to her monitors. On it are a slew of various applications, arranged in the exact order necessary for her to utilize them properly. To anyone else they were a mess of ever-changing code, of metrics and numbers and information that was updating far too quickly to keep track of. Yet she can scan them with precision and ease, picking out the bits that are important to her, processing them with her twisted brain, and receiving results that are, in essence, presented in plain English.

What she focuses on now, however, is the third monitor. There she is presented with a relatively user-friendly display, a grid-style format of New York City. All five boroughs show up, each neighborhood alight with markers of different colors. Blue for police activity, red for federal agent activity, green for the small smattering of her collaborators that live in the city. The largest of these is a blinking triangle of the brightest violet. It's currently sitting in traffic in Midtown Manhattan, meaning its arrival at her apartment likely won't be for another two hours at the very least. Not that time was an issue; that little violet triangle had been on her tail for months now, most of which she'd been aware of their presence. She'd long prepared for this day, and it was only a matter of pulling up the relevant files before they arrived.

From there, it was just more waiting. Provided with a tangible marker of her impending fate, this type of waiting was a bit more poignant, with a razor edge to it that nagged at her nerves. The meeting between her, Jennie Kim, and World Investigations Officer Manoban was long in the making. For the past year or so, the two had been engaged in an intimate virtual struggle, a cyber battle that had - at times - kept Jennie working until dawn. As frustrating as Officer Manoban's interference was, Jennie had to admire her tenacity. She made up for her lack of virtual wherewithal by utilizing dogged persistence, pressing against Jennie's defenses from every angle imaginable, forcing her to invent new ways to not only complete her but protect her own data.

Once that blinking triangle has made its way just up the street from Jennie, she decides it's time to prepare. She pulls up the most relevant files she has before ensuring that her gun - a palm-sized pistol that fit clandestinely beneath her desk - was at the ready. Then she stands, stretching her back before striding casually through her living room, down the narrow hallway beyond, past her bedroom and bathroom and shoe rack, coming to a stop in front of the front door. Rather than a peephole, there's a small screen installed in the wood paneling, providing her with a full view not only of the landing in front of her own apartment, but also the front stoop outside and the lobby downstairs. It's there that she stands, breath catching as a black-coated, blonde-haired figure slides into view.

Officer Manoban stands on her building stoop, and a moment later she hears the buzz of her doorbell from below. It's with a certain measure of disbelief that she reachs over and hit the button to let her in.