Sean was tired.

The goat had pulled another all-nighter without realizing it, the blinking lights from his monitors and the clicking of keys having blurred into a hum that prevented him from paying attention to the clock. Like usual, he’d gotten wrapped up in several activities, a game here and a bit of online chicanery there, telling himself he’d just “finish this up real quick” and go to bed. Then, before he knew it, the sun was peeking over the horizon again. Not that he let the day star dictate his sleep schedule anyway, but getting to sleep during the daytime was rarely an option. Especially with his roommate.

So, Sean stood up, stretching his rail-thin body out and slumping his way into the kitchen, clicking on the coffee maker and picking up the open pack of cigarettes he had sitting on the counter, one of many that were stashed around the house for easy access. In lieu of calories, at least he could pump a few stimulants into his bloodstream to keep him going for a little while.

Back to the battle station. Sean’s three monitors stretched out in front of him, their myriad windows splattered with text. To an outside observer, it was impossible to follow, but for Sean it was just routine. Email accounts in one window, message boards in another, background processes elsewhere. Porn.

Tired as he was, though, Sean was in his element.

A few more hours slipped past before Sean heard commotion at the front door. His roomie had hopped out in the wee hours of the morning for some kind of meeting in Boston. It was a long drive, and that meant a lot of bitching and moaning was incoming.

“Lucyyyyy, I’m hoooome!” a voice sang from the doorway.

Sean grunted.

The finch dropped his bag and sat down on one of the other computer stools in the room, rolling his way on over to Sean’s big computer cockpit, all grins.

“…Well?”

Sean turned his head. “Well what?”

The bird grunted. “Aren’t you gonna ask me how it went?”

“Oh, right.” Sean coughed and straightened himself out. “I say, Bynch,” he put extra emphasis on the name, “how did your business meeting go, pray tell?”

Bynch snickered. “Hawaii.”

“…It went Hawaii.”

“No, I’m going to Hawaii.”

Sean’s brows popped upward. He turned in his seat. “Hawaii? No shit. Fuck they sending you all the way out there for?”

Bynch held his hands in front of him. “Okay, brace yourself. This is a goodie. I… well, we… are going to spy on Alphonse Norwich IV.”

“Spy on Alphonse,” Sean repeated, as if making sure he heard right. “Ben, we’re not detectives. I mean, we can pull some shit, but that ain’t our business.”

The bird snickered, partly at his roommate using his real name, and partly just at the reaction. “Awww, don’t tell me you don’t think you’re up for it.”

Turning back to his screens, Sean blew a puff of smoke out through his nostrils, the cigarette itself just barely dangling from the corner of his mouth. “You don’t need to pull that head game shit on me, Ben. The fact that you’re tellin’ me about it means we’re doin’ it, I just gotta know what the catch is and why you’re so stoked.”

“Of course! …You wanna spin around and actually talk to me, here?”

Sighing deeply, as though it were the world biggest inconvenience, Sean turned around in his seat and leaned back, arms crossed, while Ben told him all about his meeting with Murina Beaubonique.

It was an exercise in opposites. On one side, “Bynch the Finch” sat in his clean khakis and button down shirt, gesturing wildly as he did the voices of his trip, going off on tangents that required his comrade to snap him back from. On the other, Sean, his dirty jeans and black metal band t-shirt, undoubtely the same he’d been wearing the day before if not the day before that, scraggly dreadlocks just barely kept out of his face, body generally unmoving except to wave at his friend to get him to focus.

It was hard to believe they were partners in crime, let alone friends for nearly ten years.

Once the overly long story was over, Sean took a deep breath, looking less than enthralled with what he’d heard. “So you’re flying way the fuck to Hawaii to peek in the rat’s window and then fly back.”

Ben rolled his eyes, “All right, I know you haven’t slept in a few weeks and your brain is running on smoke and coffee beans but I need you to stick with me here. So his agent asks me to track him down and ‘check on him,’” the bird made quotes in the air with his fingers. “She tells me she didn’t want to raise any flags, that’s why she called me instead of the management of the team.”

“Okay…?”

The bird huffed, shoulders slumping briefly. “So OBVIOUSLY there’s some serious stuff going down, here! She wants ‘Bynch’ to check on the guy so she’s ready for whenever the media finds out. I could tell the whole time that she was trying to downplay it, like it’ll be nothing and I’ll be back before American Idol. I say something BIG is going down.”

A grin spread across the goat’s face, which got his friend even more enthusiastic. Sean nodded. “I’m guessin’ she’ll be paying out the nose for it.”

“…Well, two and a half up front.”

“You… two and a… Ben, the fuck, man!” Sean threw up his hands, taking his cigarette and snuffing it in the nearby ashtray. “That’s like a quarter of our normal, shit that won’t even get you there and back!”

The finch laughed and put up his hands. “Hold on, let me explain. It was almost all she had on her. Now what’s that tell you? Because it tells ME that she was willing to empty her purse out on this. If she really thought there was nothing, she would have heard me say ten grand and told me to buzz off. But she didn’t.”

Sean snorted, taking a giant gulp from his coffee mug. “You’re a crafty bastard, Ben. But listen up, you dig up some spicy shit and we are NOT giving that up for two and a half thousand dollars. I see some big ass splash on FBA Today that someone else got and we just handed our scoop over for pennies I am going to wring your fuckin’ neck.”

Springing to his feet, Ben slapped his friend on the shoulder. “There’s my boy! And come on, this isn’t about money, is it? Where’s your sense of adventure?” he chided.

Sean’s near-anorexic frame swayed from the playful swat, the goat even making a wince from it. “What adventure? You’re goin’ on a goddamn vacation out to sunny beaches and pina coladas while I’m gonna sit back here doing all the hard work.”

Clucking his tongue, Ben shook his head. “Awwww, Sean, my dear son. That’s for your own safety!”

“…Fuck does that mean?”

“Well if we put you out in the sun I’m pretty sure you’d set on fire!” Sean’s snort and a roll of the eyes made Ben laugh. “Hey, you know I kid because I love. Anyway, I need a nap. That drive wore me out. See what you can dig up to get me started, I’m heading out first thing in the morning. They have a game on Thursday so I need a day to settle in and get us all set up.”

Shooting a sarcastic little salute, Sean turned back to his computer and cracked his neck. This was his role in the ‘adventure’: laying the groundwork for Ben before he got on the ground and started the actual hunt. And he was very, very good at his job.

——————————

Emerging from the bedroom, Ben yawned and went to the small kitchen. He sighed and looked at the stack of coffee mugs in the sink, picking one up and washing it out before filling it up with the barely-warm java from the pot. He could always tell when Sean had been up late, the only dishes that had been used were the cups, while the dishwasher stayed full, and not run, with the plates and silverware.

“So!” the rested finch declared on his way in. “What do ya got for me, Billy?”

Sean decided to let that one slide for the time being. Or possibly he was too tired to catch it. “Well, y’know that Richter Rozich article last year that kinda kicked our mouse’s journey off?”

“This may come as a shock, my compatriot, but I actually do SOME research.”

The goat rubbed at his face, his red and sagging eyes half-lidded, just barely pointing in the same direction. “Well then you’ve seen all there is.”

Ben took a sip from his mug, brow furrowed. “You’re gonna have to elaborate on that a little bit, chum. What do you mean that’s all there is?”

Sean pushed himself back from his desk, lacing his fingers behind his head through the mop of dreadlocks. “That’s the only real info on the motherfucker. I can find tabloid stories about him in Boston, some pictures from the draft weekend, and some bullshit on Twitter saying he murdered a hundred non-rats in England and tried to burn London down before he was old enough to jerk off, but that’s it. Everything’s second and third hand.”

The finch sat back on the old couch, crossing one leg over the other, kicking at the air idly. “Okay… but there has to be something, doesn’t there? I mean, he didn’t just appear out of thin air.”

“Look bud, I don’t know what to tell ya. It’s like he just crawled out of the fuckin’ sewer at age twenty three. Yeah I know where he went to school but the place doesn’t have fuck all online, apparently he never had a computer or a cell phone so there’s absolutely no social network profiles. Man, I tried going tit for tat for someone in Liverpool to head into Toxteth and dig something up and the guy flat out refused.”

“What do you mean, refused?”

“Apparently that Rat Alley’s no fuckin’ joke, Ben,” his roommate explained, almost in begrudging admiration. Given his musical tastes, the finch wasn’t surprised at his tone. “Like, some roach motel shit. Guy got paid twenty thou to sneak in and torch some bar and just disappeared. Said they think he’s in the basement of one of those public houses.”

Sean looked over at Ben, whose expression was now much more concerned than it had been a moment ago. “I dunno, man,” the goat continued. “I’m gettin’ some bad juju here. I know we’re not on his turf, but if even a sliver of this shit is accurate you’d better keep your distance. These rats are off the fucking grid completely and aside from that address in your hand and a bunch of rumors off the internet we got almost nothing to go on.”

Ben took a deep breath and leaned forward, putting his cup on the floor and resting his elbows on his knees. “Okay, okay. That’s fine, no big deal. I’m not going into his hometown or anything. Not like I’m knocking on his door and trying to sell him vacuum cleaners, I’m just snapping pictures.”

“Yeah, and I got a funny feeling you were right.”

“About what?”

“I think there’s a good chance this dude’s got some bad shit he’d rather keep hidden. I just hope whatever you find isn’t something we gotta turn over to the fuckin’ cops, man.”

Ben looked over at his friend, some silence hanging in the air a few moments. “…You don’t think that’d actually happen, do you?”

Sean shrugged. For once, he was completely at a loss. “I have no fuckin’ clue, dude. Probably not, but, y’know, be on guard, will ya?”

Ben nodded. “Hey, we got a system down, right? We’ll be in constant contact the whole time I’m there while I’m actually working. I’ll set up the cameras so you can take a gander at everything and let me know if there’s anything I should be aware of, easy ways to get into the place, all that good stuff. He has a game on Thursday, so that should be the perfect time to get some snooping done.”

The finch headed into the kitchen, dropping the now empty mug into the pile, then went back down the hall to the bedroom. He called out into the living room. “Well I guess that’s the best we got, then. You keep digging around, I’ll get packed up and ready to go.”

Opening up a drawer to snag some underwear, he grunted. “Sean! Come on, we have a safe, you know. Don’t just leave money sitting around like this!” The bird sighed and picked the rubber band wrapped wad of hundred dollar bills from atop the wooden surface, shaking his head. “Like we’re drug dealers or something, jeez.”

Ben continued chiding his roommate as he threw together a suitcase and made his way back to the main area. “Look, it’s a simple setup. You keep things inconspicuous here, I go out and do the heavy lifting. You pay the rent on time, keep the place at least from falling apart, make sure the landlord has no reason to swing by and come knocking at our door. You can’t just toss money all over the place, what happens if we have people over? We’re supposed to be just barely scraping by, what happens if someone pops in and sees a pile of cash on an end table? Next thing you know we’re getting asked all these questions, someone asks someone else what they know about you, and we just come crashing… what’s that noise??”

Out in the living room, a shrill beeping sound was ringing out, prompting Ben to drop his suitcase and run out to see what was going on. He found his answer and smacked his hand to his face. There was Sean, face on his keyboard, fast asleep.

“Tsk. Poor li’l bebby. He got all plum tuckered out.”

The bird gingerly lifted his friend’s head away from the keyboard, stopping the beeps, and slipped a throw pillow underneath in its place. If the goat was going to nap at the computer, at least he could be comfortable. Ben, meanwhile, went back to packing. He had a long trip ahead of him.