Sadly, Poppy Bates didn't have anything better to do on a Saturday afternoon than sit in a street corner and watch the world go by.

Giving a small sigh, Poppy brushed a strand of bright red hair out of her eyes and peeked around the corner of her plain hooded top, a dark shade of blue today. Normally she would avoid wearing colours that contrasted with her hair, making it stand out even more, but hey, if it had been the only top she could find that morning... Of course, it wasn't really cold enough for Poppy to justify wearing a hoody, but she had done her best, rolling the sleeves up and exposing to the sunlight her pale arms that were currently hugging her legs to her chest in an effort to make herself as small and unnoticable as possible. So far, it seemed to be doing the trick - sure, she recieved the odd glance, but that was only to be expected. After all, she was still really the 'new girl' (well, not technically, she had grown up here for crying out loud and had only returned from a 'break' away), she was the Head of Police's daughter, and yes, her hair was very noticable. She should really be able to cope with the tiny amount of attention she occasionally picked up, but even so, Poppy found herself cringing and retreating into her hoody at even the smallest glace, watching the person with wide, fearful eyes until they left her line of sight. Again, that was another advantage of the hoody, apart from it being something to hide in - her range of vision was limited, meaning she didn't have to watch anyone like this for too long.

Dear God, how had she managed to pick up a boyfriend with these confidence levels?

"And, what's that got to do with me?" Frankie asked with one of his eyebrows raised skeptically, looking warily at a short man who sat opposite him with a glass of brandy in his hand which he swirled back and forth which kept distracting Frankie every so often when the liquid caught the glare of sunshine.

"Just think about it Frank, can I call you Frank?" The man asked leaning forwards with a small smile on his pale face which Frankie didn't find inviting.

"No." Frankie replied sternly as he took a sip of his drink in a cold manner not letting his eyes move from the man's face. For a while now Frankie had been liaising with a short stout man from England about a deal which could either leave Frankie struggling for his life or rolling in money and he seriously mulling the idea over whether it was worth the risk. They sat outside a small cafe at a small table while they discussed their plans which Frankie had taken the time out of his day to listen but with an extremely narrow mind: keeping his self as far away from the Englishman's plans as much possible.

"Listen Mark, I have some business to attend to. I regretfully have to leave you here but I know the villa is only a short walk away." Frankie said knocking back the last of his drink in the process of standing up making trying to make a quick escape.

"Wait, what about the deal?" Mark retorted suddenly placing a hand on Frankie's shoulder in which he promptly shook off.

"I'll think about it." He answered shortly before making his way off down the street at a quick pace breathing a sigh of relief.

"You told me that yesterday," Nicki hissed, slamming her hands down on the counter. The shop keeper behind it flinched, backing away slightly, but Nicki leaned over so she was even closer. "And the day before that. Oh, and last week. I don't want any more excuses, or promises, or whatever ele you want to throw at me. And don't even think about trying to trick me out of this. I want that money." She cast her eyes around the small corner shop, already working out her next steps if the man refused her.

"No, I don't have money," the man begged, pressing himself against the wall. He faulted slightly, eyeing Nicki's gun that was tucked into her waistband. He. looked back up at her almost pleadingly "I'll get the money, I promise. I just need more time to-"

"No. I said no more excuses or promises," Nicki said, louder this time. "You and I both no that you have no intention of getting that money for a long time. Shut up," She continued, as the man tried to speak again, tightening her grip on her gun by the slightest amount. She saw his eyes flicker to her waistband again, and she smirked. "Oh, don't worry. It's a shame, but I've been given specific orders not to kill you. At least not yet. I'll wait for the money." She paused, watching as her words took effect. The man's face was now completely white, and he was shaking. Nicki leaned back, raising her eyebrows. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. You'd better have the money." With that, she turned on her heel and left the shop, slamming the door behind her, a smirk still playing on her lips.

After having just a few hours' sleep (which was technically his fault for browsing Lord knows what on the internet until the ungodly hours of the morning when he knew he had to get up quite early in the morning to meet the Boss), finding out that Rosalba had gotten her chubby little hands on the milk carton and spilt the milk all over the floor meaning that there was none left for Santo's cereal, and being chewed out by the au-pair (who did she think she was, his mother?) because she had found an unopened letter from school ranting about Santo's "poor behaviour", along with having to spend half an hour chasing the escaped chicken around the back garden, Santo was not in the best of moods.

But, pissy mood or not, he still had to go and meet the Boss. And, after staggering back inside (he had tripped over a few times and managed to rip his jeans and get a large gash on his knee) and taking a look at his phone, he realised that the episode with the chicken had made him about ten minutes late. He also saw a few messages from the Boss, but, judging by the Boss' temper and his, shall we say, wide range of vocabulary, he decided that they were better left unopened...and that he should probably get going.

After he had quickly grabbed a bag of crisps (not the healthiest breakfast, but when had he ever been concerned about his health?) and attempting to clean his wound in case it got infected because that shit's gross, Santo ran out of the door, assuming that the au-pair would figure that he was totally not up to no good, and down the street, bumping into a mother with a pram on the way and having to ramble an apology in his funny Neapolitan accent for the sake of being a nice, police boy. He had just turned the corner when he managed to trip over something - or someone - and would have fallen flag on his face if he hadn't managed to grab hold of a lamppost just in time. He looked down to see what (or who) had dared to trip over his glorious and undeserving self. When he saw what - or rather, who - it was, he narrowed his eyes and gave the poor thing a hard kick in the ribs.

"Poppy, the fuck? What are you sitting there for, ah?"

Due to the edges of Poppy's raised hood obscuring her peripheral vision, she didn't see Santo coming until it was too late and he had tripped over her. "O-oh god, sorry!" Poppy said quickly, but it was too late - Santo had kicked her in the ribs. Rather hard too, enough to give Poppy a hard time getting up. "What... what was that for?" She asked, holding her side and leaning on the same lamppost as Santo, sighing at his question. "B-because... because I have nothing better to do with my life right now." She answered rather lamely, making a small shrugging motion. "Dad's out doing... something, and I didn't fancy being in the empty house all by myself..." It was a bit of a daft reason in hindsight - she probably would be safer inside the secluded house rather than out on the streets all by herself, highly visible, where anything could happen. But hey, at least she had a reason to say. And she'd said it without stuttering! What could she say - Santo, interestingly, made her feel relaxed. Well, please, she was going out with him, why shouldn't she be?

That said, maybe she shouldn't be saying that her dad was out doing something to Santo. Not that she didn't trust him - she just didn't trust the people around her. Although, she couldn't really give much information away, should anyone ask her for it. According to her dad, it was 'confidential stuff', and as a result she didn't have a clue about what any of it was about, save for the fact it was something to do with the gangs or the mafia families or whatever you wanted to call them around here. She sighed, taking hold of Santo's free hand and squeezing it, trying to relax herself a bit more. "Uh... think we can move? It's kinda awkward standing here clinging onto a lamppost..."

Once Nicki was out of the small corner shop, she had enough sense to pull her top down over her waistband, covering her gun over so that it would be impossible for anyone to see that she had it on first glance. She turned the corner, reaching a graffiti covered brick wall. She leaned back against it, brushing her hair back and sighing. Thankfully, she hadn't had any texts or calls off her uncle, so she was free to do whatever the hell she wanted to do. What it was that she wanted to do, however, remained to be seen, because a quick glance around the street showed no men that Nicki felt were worthy of her time or flirting.

After a few minutes of just standing there and cooling off, Nicki realised that she was getting no where. She pushed herself up off the wall, straightening her skirt and making sure her gun was secure. She was just about to set off, maybe go and find someone to bug, when her phone started ringing. Oh, typical. She stopped, pulling it out of her pocket and answering it, which granted her the cheery welcome from her uncle. "Nicola, where the fuck are ya?"

"Where do you think I am?" Nicki replied, deciding to skate over the fact that he'd called her 'Nicola'. Just this once, mind you. "I'm by the shop that you sent me to, after threatening the guy that you told me to, and I was just enjoying a few minutes of peace before you interrupted that by calling me." Thank God this was her uncle, otherwise Nicki would be dead right now.

"Yeah yeah yeah," her uncle said, brushing off all of her comments. "But I might have to remind you that I'm your boss, and you do what I say, got it? Now, the Giovannis. They're stealing all of our...respectable clients. Go find one of them and persuade them to stop. Do whatever you want to do that. Got it?"

"Whatever."

Double post >.<