Bulletproof girl scouts

Full House

A/N
I'm going to make you fall in love with me.
Just wait and watch.

RM's POV

"Omo, omo", Jimin places a hand over his heart, tapping it on his chest like a fan. "Who is this dashing ahjussi?"

Yoongi plays along, voice gruff, "It's your husband, my dear. Age has worked you well it seems"

"My husband?!", Jimin gasps dramatically, pulling down his shades to look at Yoongi in faked surprise. Then he smiles shyly, looking away, then back at the older and away again like a newlywed bride.

Aoi giggles at their exchange, pulling her luggage along as she trailed behind the couple. After a few more steps, Jimin holds his hand out to Yoongi, the traditional purse that came along with the costume swinging from his wrist. "Won't you hold this for me, darling?"

Yoongi grunts, casting a suspicious look around at the public before wordlessly taking the purse from Jimin who was clearly having the time of his life. Aoi giggled again and Jimin glanced at her sideways. He then proceeded to elbow Yoongi in the ribs. The latter swallowed a curse and whisper-yelled, "what now, you punk?"

Jimin smiled a sickly sweet smile. "The poor dear is having so much trouble, carrying such heavy bags on her own. Won't you help her honey?"

Yoongi inhales, looking around at the hundreds of eyes watching should he let his character slip. So he smiled dangerously, shooting Jimin a look that said I-will strangle-you-with-the-very-pearls-around-your-neck before taking a bag from Aoi.

"Thank you, grandpa"

"Walk quick, child", Jimin says just for the heck of it, "we don't want to be late for our flight now, do we?"

"Dae, haelmonie..."

I snorted, earning a glare from Yoongi as the pretend family passed me by. He and Jimin were an aged couple in matching pink hanboks with Aoi acting as their only grandchild. I felt a tug on my sleeve and looked down to see Aera with a hopeful look in her eyes. "Dad, dad dad! I want...", she pointed to the refreshment bar a good distance away from our lounge, going on about some random snack she wanted to try. Sunhee tugged on my other sleeve, pointing in the other direction. Ayano sulked behind me while Nara threw a little tantrum over why I never listen to her because she is the youngest. The four of them were in identical pigtails, wearing matching uniforms of a prestigious highschool. I myself had a receding hairline, a pair of round glasses with a rusty chain and an impressive rump. I was supposed to be a sixty year old professor with an ailing wife and four troublesome daughters. My imaginary wife has been shifted to a hospital in Prague and the daughters are putting up a great show of being troublesome. I had doubts on whether I could pull this off but the other members' impeccable acting built my confidence. So I scratched at the artificial sideburns, ran a hand through the grey almost-goatee and stuck out my belly for maximum effect. I settled in one of the lounge chairs with a booming sigh, setting an ancient looking trunk on the floor, pushing it under the seat. I took care to keep my movements painfully slow, sighing after so much as taking a sip of water. I have lived my life to the fullest, reached my dreams and am a sad, sad man with nothing but his kids to live for. That's my character - as Lazaro described it. The name is Cuban, the man is from downtown Shanghai. Bang-pd knows a lot of shady people.
My 'daughters' ran around the floorspace, taking pictures and pushing each other around, yelling and shouting. The point of our disguises was to blend in with the crowd. They were attracting attention, yes, but not more than was needed. I discreetly searched for the remaining members while acting like I was watching over my said children. Taehyung was by the refreshment bar, dressed like a secretary with a sleek briefcase in one hand, an espresso in the other. Lazaro cut his hair to give it a professional look, jet black, slick and parted from one side in a no-bullshit manner. He wore shades, eyebrows worked on to appear bushy. Taehyung rocked his disguise, chatting up a group of professionals, blending in perfectly. Fengh was sitting on the row of seats behind my own, more to the right. Her concept was that of a spoiled teenage boy. Cargo shorts, a white tank that showed her arm muscles (who knew, right?), hair dyed scarlet and a pair of flashy headphones to complete the look. Add gucci shades and a resting bitch face and voila - spoilt brat. She worked the slouch, eyes glued to the screen of her expensive ass phone while Hoseok and Jungkook stood at attention on either side, black from head to toe, arms crossed with their muscles bulging, grim expressions on their faces. Bodyguards. I choked on a laugh, acting the old man and thumping my chest, making old man noises.