Work Text:
There was one caveat about working for John Kramer- besides, of course, the requisite activities of setting up traps and such. John, in all his admitted eccentricities, was so determined to leave no trail of his correspondence with his apprentices that he employed carrier pigeons to do the work. He insisted it was the best way of going about things.
His apprentices weren't always on the same page. But it wasn't as if anyone could convince John of another way, and so no one bothered.
They had been dealing with the pigeon method for a while now.
Hoffman, yesterday, to Amanda's disgruntlement, had let loose three pigeons in her bedroom while she was sleeping. Small as her room was, the pigeons took up a ton of space and woke her up. Mark's loud boots clanking and stomping on the floor, as he tried to sneak in and collect the birds for John to feed, made her want to stick a knife in him. No prelude with a trap.
"Do you MIND?" she finally muttered, as he corralled the pigeons into a birdcage, the birds cooing.
"They got loose," he offered, lamely, and didn't meet her glower. "You have to do this tomorrow."
Amanda got out of her bed, crossing her arms. "When I have anything to do with the pigeons, I take care of it much more competently than YOU could."
Amanda didn't know what John could be thinking entrusting his... pets? to Hoffman, at all, when it wasn't her or Gordon. Gordon being less often, the lucky bastard- but he must have had some kind of logic.
She watched him walk off with the cage on the way to John, and she cursed him for getting her morning off to a bad start. That was par for the course though, his inducing irritation in her. But it was less often that he interrupted her like this.
Maybe Amanda would say something to John about not having Mark on pigeon duty. But then, if he agreed, she would have to do it almost every day.
Still. She would do it, for John. He deserved competency. In that vein, better her than Mark. Many such cases. Even for the tasks of pigeon duty.