Disclaimer: So Adam popped up and decided he wanted some fluff. He's not mine though, and neither is Addison.


Third Wheel - Now You've Done It - Focus

He's tailing breezily, on a bike across the street from the mark, a short, sweaty corporate douche whose short, dumpy corporate drone wife wanted pictures of him getting sucked off by hookers. They don't pay him enough for this shit. Just once, let these guys be a drug kingpin or run a trafficking cartel or elope with his fucking hamster. Hell, even somebody it would be fun to shoot.

The mark is wiping his fat, shiny face and flapping his suit jacket and looking around shiftily, but Adam's got good zoom and he hangs back as the guy tries to wander casually into an alley. He doesn't see Adam. Adam snorts. He's seen it all, bribing the desk clerk, hiring their own PI, calling the cops on a harassment charge, changing cars, and enough guys trying to nonchalantly chat up hookers and innocently disappear into the alley or a seedy motel room for blow and blowjobs to last him a lifetime. So your marriage is over, asshole. Calm your tits, you're not interesting enough for jail.

He snaps pictures that follow the guy around the corner, then he stops at a convenience store and props his bike against the brick wall, locking it to a lamppost. He wanders across the street. It's late, but there's some partiers that buffet him and make him vanish to the poor, doughy schmuck haggling in the shadows. He figures he's safe, Adam thinks, because nobody saw him leave the house. That's what you think. He grins. The guy's not thinking with his head. He's a guy, they all know the feeling.

He just needs a couple more pictures, at least the dick deciding on a hole, but he doesn't have to stay for the whole thing. He's still gotta watch the guy's wife deny away until she gets to a juicy picture, and then he's gotta let her yell and scream and rip her hair out before she remembers to pay him. It's a long night. So he buys a few shitty coffees at the dingy old donut shop and then slips in between the buildings.

"Evening ladies," he grins, fiddling the flash and getting a few pictures of the pretty ones' tits. He can't shoot their faces, cause sometimes he works for cops and these girls are ok, really. They've seen him around, they won't rough him up and sometimes he gets a free one if he brings food. "Busy night?"

They take the coffee and the older ones say "thanks, sugar" and he gets a few pictures of the mark pulling down his pants. Come on, at least let her be a drag queen? Nah, it's just Cheryl with her stripper blonde hair and chipped pink nails. He tells the girls to save a coffee for her, the guy's limp as a noodle.

He got one with cream and sugar, and he holds it out to a latin chick with wavy brown hair way down her back, "Hey, Addi."

"Hey gorgeous," Addison grins slyly at him. She's his favorite of this crowd, she gets his jokes and she's got one hell of a tongue. Once or twice he's had a real good job and bought her dinner from the halal cart and they walked around, just talking about punk music while they ate their gyros.

"How often's that fat fuck here, Addi?"

She downs half her coffee in one, "Once or twice a week. Think he'd start finding new ground now there's a pretty PI on his tail." she belches spectacularly.

"Yea, Gumshoe Stanheight. All fat boring wifecheaters and potsmokers, beware the mighty flash of justice!" he sets his flash on high and starts snapping pictures of Addison, bobbing up and down while she slaps at him.

"Oh yea," she says, flipping through the replays, "This'll make some good beat off material tonight. I forgot you get off on blurry faces and fat asses."

"That's me, blurry and juicy, something I can sink my teeth into."

She rummages in his pocket for a cigarette and he lights it with the end of his. They lean against the wall in silence for a few minutes, smoking. Then the bar starts to empty out across the street. Adam snaps a few last, quick pictures of the mark, then pulls out another cigarette and tucks it behind Addison's ear before he lets her go to work.

"Gyros tomorrow, I got a gig for $300 a night and I'm jonesing for Greek."

"Kay." She grinds her cigarette into the ground and pats his ass, "Later, dickhead."

"Aight, fuck you slutbag." he waves and jogs back to his bike.