“What is he doing up so early on a Sunday morning?” Jongin groaned as a loud beep announced Xiumin was leaving the apartment.  “It’s ten past ten!”

“That’s a huge lie-in,” Kyungsoo noted without looking up from data he was compiling into a report on his laptop.  “And besides, you’re awake and at work.”

“I shouldn’t be,” Jongin muttered resentfully, slumping down with his chin on the table in front of the computers.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll go get you coffee.”

Jongin mumbled something that might have been a bleary “hyung, you’re the best” around a gigantic yawn.

Ten minutes later, he was very much awake, both hands wrapped around a mug of coffee with his sleeves pulled down to his knuckles.

“Hey, Kyungsoo, how do I access the CCTV on the metro again?”

With a sigh, Kyungsoo pushed away from his laptop on his desk in his office chair and rolled to a halt beside Jongin.  “Like this.  Now watch.”

Several complicated computer commands and drop-down menus later, Jongin was sipping happily at his coffee again and watching Xiumin giving up his seat for an elderly citizen on the metro train.

“He’s a real charmer, that guy,” he observed.  “Except when he comes here.”

“He used to run a ion ring; what do you expect?  He was basically the one who lured girls in.”

Jongin pursed his lips and nodded.  “I was going to say I should probably ask him for tips, but that would sound so totally wrong.”

The pair lapsed into a silence that was only broken by Yixing turning up sometime later, looking like somebody had frosted him over.  Kyungsoo choked on his brunch in surprise as Yixing trying to get some movement out of his defrosting tie, while Jongin just stared.

“Did your shower freeze on you or something?” he demanded.

“It’s very cold outside,” Yixing said through chattering teeth as he stole Kyungsoo’s coffee.  “And there are people on the doorstep blasting fake ice on everybody for charity.”

“Remind me not to leave the office,” said Kyungsoo, eyeing Yixing from head to toe again.  Jongin turned back to the computers.

“Any progress?” Yixing asked him after a moment or two.

“I think he’s going to church,” said Jongin, pointing at the recognisable image of Myeongdong Cathedral.

“You get quite a number of people converting in prison,” noted Yixing.  “I didn’t realise he was one of them.  Didn’t particularly think he had it in him to feel guilt or remorse or whatever.”

“He got handed a Bible by a street preacher last week and has been expressing interest since then,” Kyungsoo put in.  “He told Semi he hadn’t really understood all the religious fervour in prison until he actually started reading the Bible stories.  He seemed rather taken by them.”

Yixing frowned.  “Wait.  I think I remember you mentioning this before.  It was after he started reading the Bible stories that he came here willing to actually give us names and details for that first case, wasn’t it?”

Kyungsoo shrugged.  “Not my department, bro, but probably.”

“Hyung,” Jongin interrupted, “are there cameras inside the Cathedral?”

Kyungsoo rolled back over to the computer again and began inputting codes into a dialogue box he’d dragged up.

“No,” he concluded after a moment or two.  “Or they aren’t accessible.”

“It’s a public place, though!”

Kyungsoo just shrugged.  “We could probably ask for them to be installed, but people would probably kick up a fuss.  It would take several weeks to get through, anyway, and we don’t know if this is just a one-off.”

“Would it be worth having him tailed if he goes back there?” Jongin wondered out loud.

“Possibly.”

“Myeongdong Cathedral has crowds,” Yixing said.  “It’s easy to become invisible in there.”

“Definitely, then,” Kyungsoo amended.  “And preferably somebody with a gun.”

Jongin snapped his fingers.  “Taemin mentioned he trained as a sniper.”

“Is he trustworthy?”

“I think so, but we’ll know for certain when he shoots somebody.  I think he’s just an oddball, personally, rather than a potential traitor.”

The piano that Semi had ordered with Henry’s help was delivered on the Sunday morning.  Semi had woken up quite late after staggering home from the Star Wars marathon the previous day to discover that Xiumin was out.  He’d left a cooked breakfast on the table for her with instructions on how long to heat everything written on a green post-it, as he hadn’t had access to her hands thanks to the bolt on Semi’s door.

After shoving everything in the microwave and taking the time to find a thick poncho Sehun had got for her in America, Semi had taken her food into the living room and curled up on the sofa, intent on watching TV for a bit, when the intercom system had suddenly buzzed and scared the living daylights out of her.

It was a few seconds before she realised what the buzzing sound was and that the intercom wasn’t a threat, and she concluded it had taken her by surprise because neither she nor Xiumin had used it before, and the very f