<|endoftext|>
"We wanted you two to be open about this, because you're both still
very much in love with each other and we want you both to know that.
Neither of us have lied to either of you about this, although we both
believe it's one of the strongest explanations for your current
relationship because, why would you only choose one person instead of
more?"
They only reluctantly confirmed the truth of the statement.
"Well, I mean, I don't want you or him to be full-on, like, as
boyfriends and all of that, because we've already kind of worked
through that a bit, and we wouldn't want it to take up too much of
what's left of your time between the two of you, but, uh, yeah, I
think the best way would be to do it in-between meetings of course,
or whenever that is. You need the space to breathe and keep your
heart intact. And I'd obviously be there for you, just so you know I
won't give you any bullshit and will be happy with you, no matter
what, if you say no."
"Like what I said?"
"Yeah, you said that right," he nodded his head in the air. "We can
get the details arranged later, because right now we're just trying
to do something that seems right to us and you'd know better than
anyone how much that means."
It was Jared's turn to rub the back of his head, but he still sounded
a little lost.
"Uh, I guess we just thought maybe you could help us out of some past
grudges, 'cause like, we haven't gotten off the ground without a
little pressure so, um, I've had it from both sides for ages and I
just wanted to… c'mere, you think?" He grinned at them and tried to
stand up, but Star shot her hands up to block him, grinning, as well.
"Oh, come on," she chuckled, her fingers wrapping around his, to pull
him down towards her, making a move to unbutton the button that held
his shirt all the way down.
The hesitation was deafening when Star leaned up onto her elbows and
caught his chin so she could kiss him, leaving her lips on his, even
in case there was some room left. When it felt like all the pressure
was gone, they separated after kissing briefly, feeling a bit awkward
for them to do so.
"You make me laugh," Jared murmured against his lips, a small smirk
on his face as Star rolled her eyes, feeling a bit let down that he
wasn't smiling back.
Star snickered. "I always do, but really, you, and I had some similar
breakups before, not exactly friendly, but we had to put aside our
hurt feelings, I suppose."
Jared rolled his eyes, visibly upset, but didn't try to stop Star or
anything. "I really don't understand how this is workin' out."
Star merely raised an eyebrow, obviously still amused. "I guess we
never really figured that part out, did we?"
They both shook their heads, lightly shaking their heads when it
seemed to try them to get distracted by something they were dealing
with, like Star's blissfully open smile or Jared feeling the
occasional knots still lingering in his throat from the previous day,
but otherwise mostly ignored.
"I mean… I think… I know we've been dating, like, almostUsing
high-speed tokenizer
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The first ship off.
The ship Ronan watches closes up with a lightening flash as it cuts
through the air and finds its target. It's moving faster than her, or
almost the speed of sound. It doesn't show any sign that she is
aware, just drifts lazily above the planet.
She's only just coming back to him, but Ronan can already see the
chasm between them. She's playing an intricate game. At least she
doesn't know he's gone down there because he left his communicator on
when he came in. Too soon for the intelligence of hers to pick up,
not until they've used up every distraction.
Suddenly everything lights up. A pair of fighters races over to
them, slow and clumsy like they're running on slurry. The fighters
start spitting out blaster fire. Ronan can feel what it's like to be
afraid. Someone is hurt and now they're after them. They all look a
little ridiculous, a little scared, but there are women, a bunch of
them, a lot of them and they're all fighting against a giant glowing
spaceship. There's a massive Star Destroyer coming at them from above
and they need to get away. Ronan hears her curse, understands that,
but he can't escape.
Ronan pulls in an emergency burst of radia, and too late, she jams
her bay doors on him. He swings away, turns down the incline, arms
around himself, and looks over to watch their pursuers shoot at the
other fighters and then at him, but he gets crushed between the craft
he'd tried to open the gravity well doors to, without even knowing
she was there, and the one separating him from the best missile
launchers he had.
He screams and thrashes and clawed his way across the airfield,
lungs empty and blood being slashed into his throat like a sword
blade, spinning the monstrous ship about. Then the giant door opens
with a sickening scraping noise, and another craft crashes in behind
him and sideswipes him with a slavering look. Ronan spins and runs,
leaving the big ship behind him.
Light goes dim and it feels like the planet is closing in around
him, his escape routes swallowed by the earth. But he's wide open,
and the approaching Star Destroyer has three of his men with nothing
better to do than eat him alive.
This can't be happening. He remembers Saren's words. "Slow and
methodical, movements are entirely your own responsibility." He'll
end this with his bare hands if necessary. No, wait.
He can't have that. He pulls his rejec but doesn't have a weapon.
And he's not sure how many bullets he can take before he gives up. So
he can't. He'll try to save her. Her life is the only thing left in
his grasp.
This is why they make a good team, by the way. Everyone thinks as
they join their circle that it's just your basic buddy movie, but
they usually end up having what you would call an argument as to who
is 'the stronger man' of the two, so *against everything that's ever
happened* those arguments tend to take place in elevators and people
are usually pretty in the middle of an elevator with their eyes
clenched and bodies tight.
Ronan doesn't move, just watches the three men come to life behind
him. Saren yells at them all for giving him away and dashes away
without saying goodbye. Ronan just stares at them, unable to help but
stare at him as he leaves. He wants to ask his mom if she knows but
she doesn't know either. How does she feel about Ronan? Would he tell
her? Fuck no.
What if she knew? She wouldn't listen to anyone. But Ronan will
still tell her. She could save them. There might not be many left
with the madder bits and pieces, but Ronan still needs a plan and
there was so much he'd missed, so much that could be taken from him
now.
Ronan is going to stop them. Because Ronan will always stop them.
/chapter content The Avoided*
------------
Chapter Summary
> Part II: They say he'll probably be able to stop the droids.
>
> Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for [notes](#endnotes8) chapter
content "…but I just…" His voice cracks slightly, causes his
eyes to water as he runs the last fifty meters of his way out of
their hiding place. His wings fold up, his spine and wrists joining
him. He can hear Saren still shouting, taunting the fighters that
have been chasing after them. "That bastard killed my sister."
He hits his wings with his fist. He has found another mission to
accomplish now. As his fist sparks he sees Saren's steps, he marks
them down in his mind and in fact, they're going to see a lot of
Saren's now. Just as time did when he first met him.
Ronan feels his instinct kick into gear and so he follows, heading
off towards his chance. His instincts will kick his ass into action,
they're big jerks, aren't they. But this fight could be a great one.
This battle might save his friends. Even if it wasn't for him, or R&D
like it is now, Saren and his wayward mercenaries could really turn
the tide and help the Rebel Alliance hold out long enough to move on
Xizor's lair, put together this new kind of weapon, and get rid of
Saren and his ilk once and for all.
There's also his mother, whose thoughts are so different now, a new
part of him than anything else that's come out of the Force in a long
time. So many emotions now are blank spots when compared to the
emotions of his past or even the dead, she's in danger, there's been
a change. The anger his mother felt in his brother's death and the
pain that had overtaken her could have been explained away by
Imperial superstitions and a safety that didn't exist. At least,
that's what she seems to think. Still, some things aren't going away,
it would seem.
"Too late, babe," says Saren to someone out of screen's line of
sight. "This end will be one of thousands, didn't you say?"
"Shut the fuck up, Kolyat." The guy glares at Ronan and moves out of
view of the safety of his gun. "Serenity knows when to shut its
mouth, where's the party without us? I'll use you."
Ronan's wing beats against the hard ground and he falls, crashing to
his knees and rolling across them a few times. In fact, it doesn't
seem like that hard. And it's not like a fight with him would be a
little scary. That had been true for most of the team, before a
certain shipbuilder had gunned them down before he could get a proper
plan together.
When the new pilots arrive, the map had made them fear the
consequences of their actions would be considered unethical and
immoral. It hadn't helped that they saw little difference in the
punishments for the men who attacked Ronan, for Vandal Savage and for
Solana Thanoth. But none of those were full fledged pirates, just
people who didn't want a naysayer around. They took down people, they
gave information. They weren't directly responsible for Saren's
disappearance. Those would be the rules of today.
The pilots land, sure that they might get their asses handed to them
by the pirates, but so far it looks like they're getting what they've
earned. For now.
"…as you know," Saren's head rests on Ronan's back and he is
breathing heavily, even though it isn't very windy outside. It could
still be late afternoon. "…we're trying to organize this and
uh…that means we can't gather inform…ah…"
"We don't need to bother you with your wisdom." That has Ronan's
wings jumping and he finds himself smirking as his voice drops from
loud to guttural.
Saren looks over his shoulder and watches Ronan. "I don't mind
disagreeing with the management team, Ronan."
"Not even being an ass when they are discussing the risks and
possible loss of manpower due to our action? I'm glad you're planning
to assist."
Saren shrugs and settles for a firm, precise gaze aimed at Ronan.
"But we shouldn't have any trouble breaking the pirates in their base
and pulling it down."
"Agreed."
The pilots pull their claw on each other and we move forward again.
An hour and a half later, those pirates are in their base.
Their base had once been occupied by their former agent Lleo Tann,
while the raiders had recently captured Princess Leia Organa of
Alderaan. The new inhabitants of the base are not of a pirate
persuasion. They are Stormtroopers, more of the variety of guys you'd
see with their helmets on rather than jackboots and their original
makeup was destroyed. Still, they're nothing to laugh about, or at
the very least, their intentions are a little more subtle than the
others.
So yeah. Which leaves plenty of leeway in terms of numbers, for the
greater good. Still, that does not stop the attack and the death.
By then, both Hilde Wender, as well as the officers of the base have
been gathered. They enter the corridor lined with doors, trusting
their monitors to navigate safely.Using high-speed tokenizer
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Yusef stands up from the floor, where he is splayed out on his feet
and wrapped in his blankets. He turns away from the windows of the
watchtower and glances up at Matsuoka's visor. "We have to get you
into bed!" she cries excitedly.
"How are we supposed to do that?" he spits out, narrowing his eyes
at her as he steps forward.
"Wake me up if anything happens," Yusef replies calmly. The only
reason she isn't asleep already is because he's giving her a fair
warning this time.
"Alright," he says firmly. He waits a few seconds, then asks the
question he's been waiting for. "Tell me who I'm supposed to be
protecting?"
"You, Yusef," she replies. "I am your personal investigator."
"I don't need your authorization, I don't owe you anything," he
protests.
"You're entitled to a security presence over any area you should
wish access to," she counters. "I would have much rather you
protected this mission yourself. Or to begin with, just inform me
first if this mission needs my oversight."
"You don't know what to do in case of danger," he sneers as he walks
closer to her. "I know full well that in general being a dumbass is a
much better option than dealing with some really irate fool."
"Don't make me use up all my shit all of the time," she accuses. She
puts her hands on his shoulders, which have slumped a bit since his
outburst, and leans down so that their foreheads are touching. Her
other hand tugs at the side of his face and he jerks his head away.
"Ah, so you've made it this far without mentioning…"
"Well, *Haruhi*," she cuts him off. "I'd rather not be told that.
But if you insist on going all the way to command with no explanation
at all… well, I suppose we can do as you've said."
He meets her gaze, no longer trying to hide from her, though he's
not exactly sure how to deal with her honesty. "Of course I am aware
of the situation at hand."
She nods. "That is not quite correct. It should be noted, however,
that I have already made every effort to retrieve an escort. I am
keen to procure your commitment to the mission however, the condition
of which was agreed upon early this morning, and I have noted it in
all communication."
He rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. "This *is* from me. I
never accepted that condition."
"How do you know I refused?"
"Like I said, I have already done my best to accomplish it myself."
She chews on the end of her stickler while he pokes at his side.
"Why do you keep seeing her?"
"Because the system is looking out for you," he says glumly, rubbing
his nose. "You still owe me."
"Do you honestly expect me to act any differently than you?"
"You had your chance to behave myself. You could not be more
uninterested in accomplishing your mission."
"Perhaps I am not willing to sacrifice my reason for doing what I am
doing… for this, I cannot apologize," he admits. "You gave me
permission."
She smiles sadly. "Trust me when I say, Yusef-san, I am sorry, but I
cannot let you down."
His frown deepens as she takes his hands in hers, holding them
against her face while he frowns more. "Fine. As long as we keep our
distance I will help you."
He knows he has a point when he sees the emotion she has on her
face. "Keep your distance," he reiterates. "Please."
"Of course," she agrees, then says something that angers him to his
core. "Matsuoka, as far as I am concerned this mission has become the
most dangerous and final task that anyone has ever attempted to kill
you in pursuit of."
He flinches in surprise, which brings him out of his brief moment of
discomfort. The statement hits him like a bat to the heart, then
explodes in anger.
"I never heard that you were such a coldblooded killer. That is
deplorable. Your philosophy on life is crude and corrupted in many
ways. You may have had an idealism for years, but that is no excuse
to make personal choices that caused harm to others." He frowns. "If
this is about playing the martyr for my actions, you have lost your
moral high ground long ago."
He watches her consider his words, but she does not seem interested
in listening. Instead, she simply continues, "I am not certain about
your age, Yusef-san… but I thought I heard you making the analogy
the other day when you stated that no one should have any problems
with blood for blood. It is indeed a deep and abiding theme with
you…"
He stops, as if unable to say anything else. "What do you know of
myself? What would you know about me that you wouldn't find out for
yourself?"
"We might talk later, Yusef-san," she says lightly. "Perhaps in
secret if we should be separated or something."
"Whatever," he grunts, clenching his fists.
She winks at him. "There might be things you may need to be left
alone to talk about with me, Yusef-san… but I will be keeping you
all to myself."
She stands to give him a kiss, then shuts herself up when he rejects
her. She ends up sliding off of him, collapsing onto her bunk in the
middle of their room. In his bewildered state, he tries to grasp the
words she had just spoken—but at this time they are blurred and
blurred again, and he cannot think.
He must try harder, or something bad would happen. If not for her,
things probably would have gone much worse for him.
She opens her eyes to look at him through the thin lamplight as she
finishes her last few sentences in a whisper. "Don't give me that
look, Kei," she scolds. "Just because you had a good laugh with Amami
doesn't mean you are the type to *give in*…" She shoots him an
indignant glance, then begins to tear up. "Kei, you are dangerous!
You are dangerous!"
"Why would you say that?" he asks, exasperated. "It's only been
three weeks, and I have already taken so much damage, in more ways
than one! Do you really want me to give in now when things might get
worse?"
She shakes her head. "I don't. I think I have seen enough. I don't
want it to be over and done with…" She places a hand to the small
of her back and releases a full chorus of frustrations against her
back. She makes one last effort to burst into tears when her knees
give out and her gaze falls onto his one empty. He rakes his fingers
slowly across the lines, the after-image vaguely recalling how it
used to feel. She stares at him for a moment with broken eyes and
nothing else. Then, in a clear plea, she says, "I know. Just… don't
give in… just tell me, please."
His eyes flash black and his hands are clutching at his chest as he
hums her request into the silence. He opens his mouth to say, "No,"
when a hand descends over his, stroking her back in a fast action
that quickly softens into a more comforting one. He smiles when she
looks up at him, but then forces his smile back. "Of course."
The previous conversation leads him to suspect, of all things, that
Amami might even be trying to take her down. He wishes he could be as
on the other side of her but turns down any chances when the hand
that rests over him brushes just beside her spine, his lips brushing
the tip of her nose. His breathing slows and deepens. She blinks and
takes a few seconds to memorize the lines over his hands before she
can remove her own, so that they overlap with hers again. She cannot
help herself from letting her fingers find their way over his. He
curls himself up slightly against her, and when his eyes open she
sees a cold fury surrounding his features that he never has been able
to hide before now.
She feels shame burn like a thousand suns, but finds that she cannot
bury it. "Oh," he says. "Stop acting this way, Yusef. I'm a little
busy today, right? So take your time, and get the treatment you
need… and stop throwing things…!"
"As you wish," she mutters. Her anger simmers beneath the surface,
but she cannot help herself from lowering her gaze. "Take it easy on
me," she tells him calmly.
"Are you sure?"
She blinks. "Yes," she breathes. "For now, anyway… but at some
point I'll need you to come back. I'm only asking to be treated
right. Just let me heal and I might give in."
His brow furrows, but there is a hint of annoyance behind it. "Okay."
"I need you to understand…"
"Yeah… yes," he mumbles. "So long as you don't break me, I won't
forget that. And I'll come back."
She lets the evening play out, content to let him go on with the
show that was his exchange with Amami. His downward path down to his
wounds, however, keeps getting steeper. It's uncomfortable, and he
seems to be losing confidence in his ability to handle them. At least
twice now he feels as if he will be pulled off of the bed completely,
both times when his feet suddenly slip further into the thin fabric
on either side of his hips, making it difficult to keep upright. His
fingers draw up on the cloth, but do nothing to further alleviate the
pain in his left arm.
- • -
They had been on the second round of missions since that first day.
She doubts if he can be a pain in her ass again without being
reminded of it often. Once, even, but that was only once, and she
made sure he would never learn of the adrenaline rush, of how proud
he must have been to pull a stunt that she would rather not hear of
ever being repeated again. Instead she had to bite her tongue and say
things with a little touch of humor, the awkward smile, in a
desperate attempt to drown the pang in her stomach whenever she sees
the rakugo talent at work in him.
Both their cases are the same: an archer with a bullet lodged
through the heart of the traitor, a mentalist who cannot make friends
and with no one to pull her out of the water from the moment she
wakes up to the first hour of the day. She notes with distaste that
her little brother, Alain, can manipulate her into tears before
sending one of his henchmen, Gobar, in to taunt the man, and then
stands between the two of them and watches them trade punches with
glassy gazes while he collapses into exhaustion with a meat-bent
grin. When his next caster, Laroche, collapses with a message that
he's bleeding from the chest and wants her to choose between giving
the receiver time or taking care of him, she decides not to let him
down.
She doesn't understand why the legendary Kira can pull through such
injuries with only the smallest wounds, but she does realize, and the
ability of the body far outweighs the ability of its creator. Their
lives are more important than whether the body is alive or dead.
- • -
While they were at it, they took another mission as well: a killer
cult of which there was no hiding from them and that had clearly
already begun his project. Kira kept a watchful eye on Gobar while
they found themselves an archer to whom not even the power of air
showed that he was useless to the enemy. But it was clear to the
others that if they have to fight their way out of a pile of bodies,
then they'd have to risk going at it alone. And they know just how
good they have it when Kira is ready for them to do just that. After
setting their lantern up and watching their target unfold before
their eyes, the exalt merely says, "Come on," before raising the
stakes.
- • -
Unfortunately for them, their encounter does not give their luck any
better. In fact, a few of their crew members had fallen, while others
were injured more severely. In the three days since they had left
Tokyo, their numbers had shrunk to two: Harken and him. It's a useful
trade-off for how short-handed they are. He intends to send one of
his servants with them to oversee their execution by Gnawas, only to
have it turned down because of his own injury. He himself needs time
to recover and rest. Still, he makes the threat clear enough to put
the assassin outside of his comfort zone and how determined Kira is
to hold on to their lives.
A week has passed since their assignment has been carried out. The
hired man returned and told Harken, of course, that it would be
impossible to get any good information out of them without using
extreme measures, but his words were like balm to the greedy spy.
This is very much different from the day before, when he would have
never believed it would happen. So he would tell Harken only what he
wanted to hear and the fact that there were already animals chewing
on corpses was of no concern whatsoever. Once he had their
information, then he would bring them to an entrance marked by an
emergency entrance that was nearby and worked upon through immense
amounts of effort and energy, especially because it was to be an old
mineshaft that was destroyed during some period of time. On this
occasion it would take less effort to make their own way in, and they
were called to their task with many cheerful shouts of your mission
accomplished and congratulations on reaching your objective.
Thankfully, he and Harken only have to infiltrate the name of one of
their private bank accounts to find it empty. They were able to open
an account under a fake name with the account from which they
received every single trinket, as well as teddy bears and drawings.
It's a mere point against which they can either fail or succeed.
- • -
It takes nearly an entire day to find them another individual who is
unaware of them. They tried something similar a week before and had
failed miserably. With only six hours before his leave, they tried
again and found someone with a terrible attitude towards their
kidnapping. When the exalt saw through his tactics, Gobar picked the
fight immediately, but it would take too long to persuade him to give
them information when the chance was lost. In the end, he had to
abandon their task because of some preparation in a distant region of
the planet, but it gave them more time and gave them more leverage
against the client.
- • -
They are able to extract five more people in that period. Four are
accounted for and can be smuggled onto their ship safely, while the
fifth is sent back to their employer with a few charms as
precautionary measures against them being snuffed out in the next
encounter. On their way to their next mission they have more time to
call on trust and a higher bounty on their head as well. In fact, now
only one person on the client's side remembers them, though he thinks
they don't matter as much as they did before. The man they
encountered in the mineshaft also remembered. Gobar knows he'll lose
that source of information quickly, but knowing how attentive he can
be, he asks her, "I trust you, though, Duki."
Her response is quick. "You may have the intel, yes. But I've the
antidote."
- • -
Being wounded, however, doesn't lead to much more freedom than
before. Now, when he's caught, he has to stay alive for all that's
left of them to be sent to their next destination. The process
usually takes much longer than it used to. Two more prisoners die
each time. It might seem cruel, but they've learned not to try and
manipulate or escape. Whenever possible, Gobar tells them what they
need to know, and listens to their excuses when they say they'd
rather die than work for the torturers. It's a way to keep their
bodies farUsing high-speed tokenizer
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clear_context <function clear_context at 0x7f8b5f698e18>
The businessman smiled. "What?"
"Just wanted to say thank you."
"For what, Cap?"
"You've helped me more than you can ever know. You were the first
person I trusted to lead the rescue operation and you have been there
for me since day one and I didn't want that to change because of me.
I don't know how I was ever so lucky to have you."
"You don't know that," said the billionaire.
He took a step closer and reached out to shake the billionaire's hand
with both hands. "Do not take that as an invitation to lead me again,
let alone to come with me now. At least not yet. He's still in
custody, although perhaps you'd prefer him on the front lines more
than I would. But as a guest of the CCPD, you are the prime target
for our latest round of operations. So I hope you'll agree that it
would be irresponsible of me to leave him behind. If you'd rather not
be away from him during this time, I understand. But if we did, then
I understand that leaving without notice would be a grave dishonor to
my organization. In any case, your assistance wouldn't be needed so
long as I remained behind me."
"Why do you ask?"
"We have several leads. I'm sure of it."
The billionaire's eyebrows rose. "And?"
"They do not concern you in the slightest. He's one member of the New
Empire, but they operate entirely independently. And there are no
protocols that indicate me being included in his interrogation."
"Oh. Well, I should get going before I start worrying about my
health."
/chapter content Chapter 2
---------
chapter content Omegas were easy to get. They were frail, and as
such, almost certainly smaller than their alpha counterparts, but
there weren't many who were this big or which, in turn, could safely
be trusted to respond to such a tiny command. The situation started
innocently enough. A low-ranking DEO employee in charge of security
had been kidnapped while running from an attacker. The suspect was a
skilled-enough shooter who had wound up successfully escaping for the
same reason. This DEO man had asked for another man to contact
security regarding it and he received authorization for someone to
assume that role. He wouldn't like it if the official didn't show up
in the allotted timeframe and the reporting officer had said that the
man in question would receive proper paperwork once everything was
sorted out.
As the initial directive went, it all came down to two things:
location and proximity. There were certain clues necessary to pin
point which city the suspect was operating from, so time was a
factor. And the bastard had paid out considerably well at going free
that day, so there was no doubt that they were dealing with the wrong
guy.
He looked at his phone. He checked his schedule. There was no problem
with me waiting for another DEO man to contact me. In fact, it would
only take me three minutes to check the train schedules and do a
double-check on the ability to get through security on any given day
with four people.
Of course, by doing that, there was a chance that there would be two
more people who were connected to the monster and would be quick to
protect him, which just presented an unexpected complication. It
wasn't like they would have people who could wait on them. So this
was now another part of the puzzle that he would need to work out,
which thankfully left all of the other parts alone. Sooner or later,
he would find them, but the situation just now was far from ideal.
He may have been quite capable of making it work, but he knew that a
high-paying job at the last second, paid on an hourly basis, was not
to be missed. Or even at the last minute. That way, no one else would
worry about who to protect, or who not to watch over. He would have
plenty of people to help him in the meantime, but nobody to lose for
that important purpose.
There was nothing but work in this world today.
During this long silence, something started to go wrong. Just barely
enough to justify the prolonged wait to accomplish this small task,
but too soon to satisfy the guy in question. There was no suspicion
of a hostage situation, so long as the contact could somehow get them
into security. And as a matter of fact, they might have to. They
might have actually gone outside of our borders and gotten through
without anyone knowing. So there was no real risk in stopping.
Unfortunately, all of those factors put the agency employee and one
of his members at far greater risk than they were willing to give
themselves. They couldn't spend too much time outside in high risk
areas. No, not on their own back. Not now.
Sure, it was obvious who was involved in this situation, but there
was no guarantee. He would find out soon enough. There was no need to
speculate too much. He wouldn't. It was just him and those people.
With as little information as possible, he knew there was still
plenty that he didn't know and that the chances of finding out what
that person wanted were pretty slim. Yet, he had to at least try to
find out. He supposed that his line of work kept the general public
unaware, though. Most people just didn't make it any harder for
themselves, least of all for such a delicate situation where the
stakes were so high. He wondered how many headlines went on and off
in the time he'd spent in the medical field, and smirked when he
realized he would have to do the same.
The contact didn't answer his questions, so he was forced to contact
someone else for assistance. His searches worked on their own now, so
he should get the latter's attention. The guy was a scam artist, and
he knew it, because he ignored him and sent up new orders until he
found something useful. There was nothing useful to steal, of course.
He tried looking through many websites, but no matter how hard he
tried, it wasn't something of value. But every once in a while, he'd
get lucky and find the unexpected; lots of photographs and videos
that were either child porn or pedophilic; disgusting things that
almost made him angry and how did a young black man end up near a
drop of baby oil?
He rolled his eyes and did some basic research on his own. Then he
got his request to schedule a meeting from his boss. Of course, she
didn't do many calls and so she didn't bother to contact him first,
which made this a problem that he had to sort out himself. She seemed
to not have any doubts about her subordinates, but this particular
person had none. It was important enough to the person herself that
she cared to use all means she had to earn her pay. It wouldn't do to
start accusing others of smuggling or something, right?
"I need you to investigate this person," she told him with a firm
nod. "And I won't budge until the kid shows up in my office for
questioning. He has a tendency to repeat patterns of behavior, so he
will also have to supply you with documents." She sounded angry, but
that was actually quite amusing considering the state of the kid.
What was he going to prove anyway? They were planning to deny him a
fucking job? "It is important that we go after that kid at all costs.
They've been pretty lax in letting us go after the organization
members who have done their duty." She took a deep breath before
continuing: "At the moment, though, there is no security for them in
your area. They are on the side of the fence, meaning that if you're
lucky, they'll wander over to the other side and you'll have a friend
or something to help you. If not, you may have to choose between
killing them or letting them go." She gave him a hard stare.
"I will find that kid, Commander." He swore to God that it was true,
because otherwise he wouldn't have come back here. He felt almost
dizzy just thinking about it. "Help me with this guy and take care of
that kid," he repeated and with a shake of his head, he directed a
glare at the shady looking fellow waiting in his office. "Those
idiots," he muttered under his breath, then gave up and sighed.
"Fine."
With a small voice of acceptance, he left the building without a
single smile or meaningful expression.
By the end of the day, he had been waiting for six hours, through
many painful phone calls, emails, and texts, all with the same
result. He was getting the same response time. He would ask again
later. No one would answer at that point, so he texted the contact
again and waited for a reply. This time, instead of the usual
trickster reply, he got *follow me* from the handler. The bastard was
well aware that it was him and that he only pretended to be someone
else to learn the identity of the contact in order to achieve that.
The contact must have intended to call him for backup, but the
bastard misinterpreted this and sent the message through the usual
channel, thinking that this should be over. When it hadn't been, the
bastard assumed the contact must not have been coming back to the
liaison. It was time to rephrase the question to attempt to steer the
contact away from trying to locate the assclown again.
*Well, before I tell you what the fuck is going on, it should
probably be explained to you, *the bastard wrote. He sounded angrier
than ever and although it was half a day after that message had come
through, the second time the bastard refused to give up and started
talking to his contact again.
*Think it through before you read anything else, Colonel, *he typed
and then followed up with: *In other words, since we have a case
right now that should have ended in our favor by now, it doesn't mean
we're going to sit idly by and let the ballsiest of asses run around
your damn town like an entitled child before they deserve it.* And so
forth, ad nauseam.
*Consider this in safe keeping, *the bastard replied, composing a
second message which described in detail the time frame that he
planned to pester him with and then responded with this: *If this
isn't enough to ruin the bastard's fun, I'm going to call for backup
soon and personally shank him. And this will probably involve a lot
of blood, so be ready.* At the end, he followed up: *You know, I can
tell by your tone that you don't know what else to say to this
asshole.*
The bastard just twiddled his thumbs and replied: *you've got the
right to insult me every day of my life for the rest of my life.*
*Can I get that on record?* he asked, glad to be done with him.
*I will never let this bastard live it down. You mean to tell me
you'd quit being an FBI agent because of him?*
*Humph, your stunt will not go unnoticed by anyone.*
The bastard had heard enough and did some prep work, reading through
whatever instructions she had given him and crafting an elaborate
ruse on how to corner him and pull his trust through a bloody thread.
At least he knew when to stop if he was about to piss off this
ruthless woman. One hour later, he stood on his balcony in full gear,
moving to the windows and getting ready to open the doors of his job.
It wasn't even an hour, and the bastard would walk by him, still in
the parking lot, and the bastard would be back on his doorstep and he
would use the force of the entire world behind him to make sure he
would pay the damn sucker back. Now, this wasn't the man he wanted to
handle the case for the second time, but this was his job and he
needed to get the bastard for good.
The bastard was smart as hell. He'd set up a recording device inside
his apartment, forcing his ass into the room and saying that he
wanted to know why he was so unprofessional as to do something so
disrespectful to his pride. As promised, the bastard burst into a
speech and meant to play this card against him, as if what he did
didn't matter at all. That was foolish, the bastard could see through
his façade immediately, and he was almost certain that the bastard
would start making his way over to his balcony and trying to fuck the
bastard in the head before pulling out his knife and murdering him.
But as always, the bastard didn't listen to his own advice and
instead played for time, giving him more details about the case so he
wouldn't kill him so easily. He grew further away and tried to stop,
but the bastard noticed.
*No sir, you were supposed to meet my new contact right after the
season finale,* he replied. *And now you've stalled, asshole.*
The bastard let him get a little bit closer but still left no doubts
as to who the contact was; he didn't even put a blindfold on the
bastard, forcing him to at least pretend. Maybe he was dumb and
careless because he thought the bastard didn't need to look
suspicious for it to work, but the bastard didn't take it personally
and continued getting closer and closer to that night. The bastard
moved from the front of the apartment to stand in a small square in
the hall between the living room and kitchen where he could see the
living room and the balcony, three rooms from each other. If the
bastard ever made a mistake again, he would know about it, but the
bastard only slowed down when he was sure that the bastard would
return to wait in the living room. On that day, the bastard was
almost ready to jump.
The bastard started out of his own will to harass the bastard, making
comments to him in an obvious attempt to catch him off guard. They
became a test, to find out whether the bastard would attack him, at
which point the bastard had to be prepared for whatever he would
bring against him. The bastard started off annoying and careless,
with his speech and manner, all the time attempting to win the
bastard's trust and convince him to come out from the flat and face
him. The bastard was attempting to be careless. He had trained
himself to beat the bastard once or twice to prove it. He had used
his particular tactic against people who tried to hide, making them
come to him at night or after noontime or during the week. His plan
was one of efficiency, but his knack was to make the opponent miss
his target. By slowly nipping at the bastard's legs or trying to slip
his knife under his shirt, the bastard gained his trust and started
using the tactics against the bastard again. While the bastard was
very close to the possibility of taking him on on a fight, the
bastard kept it carefully ambiguous and the bastard used those few
attacks as opportunities to further his offensive and move his plan
forward.
The bastard had been working his way around and eventually found him
sitting on the stairs at 3 AM. He hadn't been prepared for this turn,
and the bastard knew it, so he decided to sit up and fidget so the
bastard would be less likely to rush him with his attempt to help
him. He waited until the bastard was giving him little nods and deep
breaths before he started jumping up and down. The bastard had
thought the bastard would kill him when he had figured out his
intentions.
"You want to fucking lie low? Fine, I'll keep a sharp eye on you,"
the bastard smirked, clearly proud of himself for controlling the
situation. "If I'm still alive, we're talking tomorrow morning at
dawn. Now, either you come for me or you'll be knocking on my door at
6 AM. I will not let you come back here again and I will not let you
think this was a mistake, fucker."
*That is… not a reasonable offer.*
"Why should I be worried, bitch? I have served you loyally for four
months, you never miss a day. You really think I care that you got in
my face to tell me that you're lying around on your piss-weak balcony
knowing that I'm sitting right there, let alone going to get us into
real trouble?"
*I would have gotten in there with a shotgun and destroyed your
shitty apartment building before this began*
*"So? Do you have a problem with it?"*
"Oh, I don't think I do."
"Really. So why don't you just come right to me, bitch? I'm hungry.
Just knock on my door and I'm just gonna hop on down."*
*"Fine, we'll make it quick, then. As you say, the bastard still has
his leg up his ass, so we're gonna make him lose some of that
stinkiness and pussy-ass pants."*
"This isn't your place to fucking call bullshit to me, but if you
don't want to talk, then I have no say here. Now, if you want to get
in there you better just fucking do it."
"Nope, I'm good for what IUsing high-speed tokenizer
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In reality, the only time that Merlin was confused was when Morgana
told him that she and the Princes had become friends after the War.
His thoughts had been cut off in his jumbled thoughts of the
socialites he met in King's Landing. He wasn't ready to think
anything more about it at the moment.
Later, he thought he might have said something before about his
friendship with the Princes, but he couldn't remember, and so the
memory went entirely.
The next evening they came back to Casterly Rock as usual, but they
saw no sign of Ser Loras on the watch tower. A search later revealed
that Loras had gone to Lady Caerwyn's wake, having heard of her
condition after she died.
Merlin was shocked. He wasn't sure why, though it did mean that one
of his men had gone missing.
After Morgana learned that the ship Kastein had arrived from Dorne
and sent a message to the Vale of Arryn, she went to attend that
feast she'd always loved as a child when she was growing up. She
didn't expect to be able to meet her old friends there so soon. But
it was happening, and she wanted to be part of it. The Red Keep
hadn't changed much since she was last here. Her own rooms had
changed very little, though she never said so. She knew there was a
reason for that. The family, large and small, were all far larger now.
A knock sounded at the door to her room, and she opened it to see
King Margon. She smiled and moved to respond to him, smiling in turn
at his son.
"I didn't know how you felt, but this is unexpected. I just heard of
your arrival from the Master. I am glad to see you are feeling
better. But I must say that you aren't in your own rooms anymore. I
guess you are still recovering from your wounds?"
King Margon smiled at her in return. "And I'm sure it would be hard
to move out of Casterly Rock, even for me."
"He's not my man anymore," Merlin said. "Not that I want to; it feels
strange without him. But we'll come back to King's Landing. Are you
sure you would prefer to live in Castle Black instead of Casterly
Rock? If the peace talks we've planned are successful, you will
surely make your own choices."
Margon snorted. "The peace talks are useless. I'm sure we'll find
something. Honestly, you are all useless."
Merlin smiled. "If this man seems to be getting easier to use, I'll
tell you about that in my book. Perhaps I will be helpful to you as
well, after all, you still haven't changed in thirty years. Your
father was right – an old man such as you needs information to stay
alive. Please come over to my chambers, Margon. We can talk of your
desires."
Margon seemed to be considering it. "How would I go about speaking to
you in person?" he finally asked.
Merlin waved his hand, saying, "Do it yourself."
There was a pause, and then he nodded and smiled at the king. "Very
well."
"Why, thank you, my lady, for agreeing to see me today. I don't
suppose there is a chance to speak before tomorrow?"
Merlin shook his head at the old man's determination. "Of course.
Right this way, lass."
He was already taking her by the arm to open the door, and she
immediately went to take off her shoes and wrap her cloak before
hugging him to her chest and kissing him. "Well, it's good to have
you here, my lady. This is going to be a long conversation indeed,"
he said.
Merlin kissed her once more before kissing her lips in return. "Thank
you," she murmured.
"I'm glad you agreed to talk to me, because I really like to tell
people what is happening to them."
She laughed. "That's what mothers do, my dear brother," she teased.
"I figured the Queen would take a fancy to you, but it was fun to
hear you join the King's Hand after all. You look rather good in
those robes."
Merlin gave her a small smile. "You're probably going to get me
killed on the road back to Riverrun, so I'm not sure if I'd show you
all the pomp of the capital," he laughed. "But I'd gladly be thrown
to the lions."
"Are you going to sleep over at the Crowned Stag or the Red Keep
tonight?"
Merlin smiled. "It depends. There might be easier rooms in Casterly
Rock if I asked you, I was thinking of visiting the royal residence."
"Don't you have to go to court for that?" she questioned.
Merlin grimaced. "What else would I do, Catelyn?"
"Call in sick, eh?"
Merlin smiled. "Are you referring to Ser Brady Bener?"
"I assume so."
"Cherish your traditions, princess. A knight and I are on our way to
find you to reclaim Riverrun from the wrongdoers who invaded and
destroyed it."
"I agree with King Baratheon that the realm should be unified. And I
agree that we can begin to rebuild Riverrun."
"Thanks," Merlin said, smiling at her. "We'll go with everyone else."
The girl leaned into him. "Is it true you visited the castle last
night?"
Merlin swallowed, and squeezed her tighter. "Last night, yes. It
happened very suddenly. Once I was meeting with Lady Lyanna and King
Robb's boys."
"Good luck, my love," she teased him.
Merlin puffed his cheeks out. "It'll be good luck all the same," he
promised.
She smiled. "Take care, and remember who you're fighting for."
Merlin winked at her. "Let's go."
/chapter content Chapter 13
----------
chapter content "As I told you at the beginning of this chapter, I
am leaving Riverrun, and I won't be coming back."
Gondor had all but fallen, and so had the throne.
Merlin fell in love with a crown prince, a man who would sooner lose
his life than hurt a hair on anyone's head, a knight whose heart was
not only full of a kind heart but also evil, a warrior's soldier who
held the deepest respect for both men and women, and someone who
loved so dearly his lady - who had done his best to fulfill the role
King Harold was expected to. As King Gondor had sieged Riverrun, so
his majesty and his people had destroyed the kingdom they had been
sworn to protect and he had failed them and hurt his prince. His
vassals had destroyed everything they had left behind, but he
wouldn't allow himself to be dragged down too. He hadn't wanted to
abandon his family in any way, but she had pleaded him and she begged
him and he still insisted on defending his sister-queen for two
years, and most especially when the desperate soldiers were at their
gates.
Merlin didn't fight anymore, he didn't want to be the hero, he just
wanted to destroy, with none of the savages and nobody he had once
believed. He would not kneel down to any man, any army, no matter how
high he might be called. None of the men under his command did so
either, even the ones who had returned from the dead. All of them
were resolute that Gondor had lost, that he would never be better
than the Horntail, and that nothing but a ruthless, axe-wielding,
sword-wielding warrior could stand against him. No wonder he now
hated all of them. But, the things his dreamless sisters had sung - a
beautiful wife, fair sons and daughters, the birth of his dreams -
they were broken into pieces.
His younger siblings would always remember their friends, their
brothers, even his daughter. They remembered how one young prince
stole his sister away in their mother's arms, how an axe could murder
through his sister without mercy, how his sister held his hand on his
wedding night and how the thought had chilled him to the bone. But
now, he would never forget. He would never forget that one of the
king's children - whether pure blood or bastard - was the very person
he needed to deal his murder, the person he had desired his entire
life. There was no longer an army, a standing army, as his ambitions
called for, nor did he have a successor to battle, nor did he have
anything he loved. And the outside world had sunk him more deeply
than Gondor had ever done.
Merlin called himself a coward, he called himself cowardly, even
brave on some mornings. But Gondor hadn't forgotten, he had actually
heard his father call him "my prince, and my son", as he had died to
save his country. Merlin had been called a traitor, thief, even
worse. Everyone had been calling him a fool - there were none who had
believed that he would succeed, that he would stay strong, that he
would dare to fight, and for the first time, Merlin knew that he
would pay for it all in a way that Gondor had never expected.
That was why he said goodbye to his sister before speaking with Lord
Follen, who for the first time, didn't think Gondor had lost him. "I
know how the reputation is," he said. "A coward and a betrayer, who
threw away the sword in his own hands."
For Merlin, words were broken into fragments, but the vision of
Gondor on the plains before them could never be better, it would
never be surpassed. It would be the one thing that could give him the
strength to keep going and carry on.
All his hope and thought were shattered when those words came true.
It had been nearly three days since the battle of Lordsport and in
that time, the entire country had fallen apart, but Gondor had clung
to the hope that they would somehow win. In the next two months, the
vast majority of the kingdoms had been destroyed - with no more
resistance from men, no more songs to sing and no more hopes to hold
on to. With each day that passed, it was dawning on them that the
battle was over, they were no longer dealing with men, with knights
and men, with knights who refused to surrender and only remained
loyal because they were afraid of the crown prince. In the end,
Arthur and Arwen survived the disaster that Gondor had doomed their
country to, because they were willing to live and die with each other
for the sake of the whole kingdom - not merely for Gondor, for Merlin
and for the people who lived in the lands that surrounded them.
Then, it was as though time stood still, until...
"The southern kingdoms are faring better than the North," Follen said.
"Are they?"
"What is done cannot be undone."
Merlin knew this, he had seen it so many times. But still the bonds
of mortality tugged him forward with what he would have liked to have
foreseen years ago. "If I remember correctly, Gondor has..."
"Yes," Follen sighed, "we have taken the strength from these enemies.
Some were pillaged, they were left to fend for themselves. But I can
assure you that the greater part of them will go down in defeat. Many
were wild, almost feral beasts when they got here and even more now.
One time, we sat outside for twenty hours waiting to kill a pack. It
only took forty minutes to kill a group of berserkers and they
charged as if we were a battle and not a robbery. We did it right in
their heads, which is a rare talent, especially on the plains. You
should have known, Merlin, and you should have seen them for what
they are. Do not blame yourself, your mistake was that it was you who
showed them what they truly were. Your sacrifices at the Field of
Cormen have made us stronger and we will strike again, for they
cannot come."
Merlin could only groan. "But the longer this war drags on, the more
I hate you. I wanted it to be over so badly. I don't blame you for
the carnage, but... I want to have them around me and I don't have
the chance anymore."
"I know," Follen replied. "Arthur does not understand, Merlin, he
only wants the battles to stop. But we have been healing for three
hundred years and the illnesses can be cured."
"You have healing? Are they going to die again? Do they have too much
suffering to endure?"
"No," Follen said. "No. The bodies we send to our armies are clean,
no cuts or bruises, and if we get our hands on these families'
children and see that they are afraid of something, they feel their
hearts break - but their experience isn't as long."
Merlin began to protest, but Follen cut him off. "There is hope for
you in that," he said. "Because what happens when we see their young
as we slaughter them in their homes, what happens when we see them
for what they really are? Everything changes."
Merlin frowned. "When?"
"Waking, especially."
"Or maybe after that?"
Follen nodded. "It's possible. There are those in Gondor who, for one
simple reason, fight for you, and for all our kingdom - my uncle, sir
Corvi and others like them."
"These people are savages, aren't they?"
"Just as savage," Follen replied, nodding. "But there are those who,
for another reason, fight for our kingdom, and for all of Gondor. I
know a number of those who fought in the War of the Kings, Follywon.
Ser Seymour in Rivendell. Herrin and Jethro of Sarsfield. Sir Ioredda
fought for you. And there are many others, and those people take
their deaths hard, but never choose to return."
Merlin smiled. "Oh, you all have your strengths and weaknesses, I
know, but you all fight with an admirable faith in humanity and
bravery. Come, no more of this."
"My lord?" Follen had him by the hand and held him upright. "What do
you mean?"
"To put my bowmen and archers into battle, and I told you not to
listen to the rumors, not after the Massacre at Cardolan, but I
didn't say you could take me away from home and send me to war with
no sense of how the people may fight or die. I mean now, please."
Follen nodded and pointed to a group of cavalrymen. "Look at that man
there. His sword swings with all the power of a drunk bear, in that
dull way he uses it. He's full of guts, hells, absolute death headed
creatures, and he hasn't the courage to take to the field."
Merlin looked at Follen. "Are you suggesting I remove him from the
field?"
Follen paled. "If only he would leave his whore-mama and her whore
boyfriend out of the field, he would give a good shout, didn't you
say? He thinks that neither one of them want him to risk himself."
Merlin clenched his jaw. "Look, I know these things are difficult,
and I understand your thinking - but your loss is mine. Arthur would
pay all of us so many times for even a day's fighting against enemy
horses - so why waste your sword on this, am I wrong?"
"I'm speaking only of War of the Kings."
"Surely, your brother held that men were sacrificed in all wars and
there was no good in this war; either you were right or I was right."
Merlin looked back to the front with a wry grin. "Then in this war,
we will bleed all the dead of a continent."
"But we're doing us no harm, we haven't done us harm."
"Indeed, my lord. In the beginning, you made me miserable. I know,
Sir Arthur has said it more than once, I know you love those families
so much, you would have fought with them even if you hadn't loved the
people you killed, you would have gone as far as you possibly could
have if you were fighting to defend the liberties you held dear...
The Wall..."
"Merlin."
"What is to stop you from the walls in your mind or your heart if
your purpose was simply to fight against your own lord?"
"I would fight with my people no matter what."
Follen started to rise but Merlin stopped him. "Sir, don't step in
front of anyUsing high-speed tokenizer
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This wasn't the first time they'd danced with more than one girl at
a party. The leader was usually using her powers to talk his way to
the front, and when one of his buddies showed up to keep an eye on
the count and to direct everyone else away from them, Hanji was like,
"Fuck! I gotta get home before the man from my part can make me go do
something." She probably should have known that she couldn't be
trusted around him anymore, but then again she probably should have
learned by now not to walk anywhere near him without accompanying
him. He used his power to deliver just enough hesitation so he didn't
offend her or get her in trouble, but he didn't know how to deal with
it.
So yeah, when he found out she was the new person in the party, what
did he do? Nah, why would he have listened to the rules about walking
the dance floor? He's got a friend who's not paying attention to the
things on the table at the tables and will just follow him wherever
he leads him anyway, so why do they need rules for this? Because, as
long as it's someone who isn't important to Hanji, he doesn't care.
Maybe it's bad luck for someone who wants to be friends with such a
clumsy person… He decided not to talk to her anymore after that,
and she understood. It sucks. It was pretty far away to be friends
with someone who was definitely better than you and your shitty room,
after all. He's pretty sure that if she saw him now, they would both
hit it off instantly and be teaming up to murder him.
But he likes working with people, right?
Okay, maybe a little… But he loves talking about movies and pop
culture, so that's good. People respect his opinion about something
because he cares about it, and if they knew it had been carefully and
thoughtfully offered to him, they would probably want to listen to
him. It's one of the major perks of having powers.
There's a knock at his door. He opens it, promptly admits who it
is, and takes a peek in. There are dozens of guys—presumably
Jiraiya and Obito—standing on the other side of the door who are
whispering a bunch of shit about Kushina. This isn't their usual jam.
Is that some kind of payback? Fuck no, Jiraiya and Obito work
together, they wouldn't have come to Hanzo if they were too busy.
With him in the mood, Obito said his next meeting at the Hokage's
office would be short, so she might not even notice.
"If you want to talk about anything, don't hesitate to ask," he told
her, signaling to her. "I don't expect you to agree with my point of
view on the matter, but it'd help." He threw an arm around her
shoulders and leaned her into the doorframe, trying to give her a
better look at the older guys.
"This is one of the most important meetings in the whole club,
wasn't it?" he continued, letting her pretend she hadn't noticed. "I
need you to let me in, and there's only one reason you can be here.
What do you say, princess?" She couldn't figure out why anyone would
trust a drunken hooligan like this, but at least he'd behaved and
followed the rules, which allowed her to be here.
"Um," she had to think really hard. "It's an entirely personal
question," she mumbled. "Not like you should tell me, or I'll just go
fuck myself. Just, uh… well, a lot of stuff has happened, and I
need a safe space to talk about it." He ignored the gesture, like
he'd expected that. She snorted again, there was nothing fun about
making him feel like he was the annoying one being pampered. She knew
she was supposed to call him but she still wasn't sure how. "Um…
I'd rather you stay there?"
"Just so I don't have to leave right away," he said softly. "I'd
like to talk with you more privately. No, really, if you'd prefer."
She didn't respond to that one. He knew she could be herself when she
was alone, but she'd never speak to him about her thoughts on a
subject unless she knew he wasn't about to punch him for that—which
she'd already done. He wanted this to be extra personal for both of
them. It was stupid, he knew. If she didn't want to, he didn't force
her hand, but it would be nice to know that he was listening and
giving her his thoughts. "Hanji… they keep telling me that I'm
important, and maybe I'm, but I feel like if they think you're a
punchline it's kind of…" She hit him in the arm. "No. Okay, um…
be a good girl and come with me. You can call me, if you want to,
right? I'll always answer, right? Can I touch you? Let me see you in
person? Or am I just gonna have to imagine you? Whatever." He tapped
his foot in an impatient fashion for a moment before tugging her
inside, then pulled her into a kiss. "Come on… It's an important
meeting. We can share our memories."
"Deal," she finally acquiesced, flushing. He was a jerk, but she'd
given him a favor, and he owed her that much.
She entered his apartment, but not right away. He was waiting for
her at his desk, pen clutched under his chin like a chef was about to
make his entrees, and his bow tie unfurled in preparation for her
arrival. As soon as she got close enough to them, he banged his head
against the desk and made her turn around to see how long he had her
staring up at him. It looked like several seconds. It looked like a
moment. It looked like that and then he leaned over her and kissed
her on the lips. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever
before he pulled back and shoved her into his bed, spreading her legs
wide so he could climb in. Her eyes widened in surprise, she hadn't
even been aware that he could.
~~
It was a good week, Hanzo thought as he turned the stove off and
used his chopsticks to puncture what was left of his baked donuts in
the living room. Kiba had set him up with some gifts to try and sate
his sweet tooth, they both agreed it was worth more than the implied
price. Well, considering he bought another special meal just to wind
up eating it the next day… Or the day after that, the day after
that, and kept going all week long.
"So, what should I do about this guy Hanzo?" He watched as Hanzo
bent over and put out the extra goodies, nearly squishing them with
his height and weight behind him. He stuffed the leftovers into his
mouth, not taking his eyes off the ridiculously melty package he'd
found in the trash, and dipped a huge cookie into it. "Maybe you can
report him to the Hokage, or turn him over to the cops?" Hanzo stood
up and flexed his teeth, scowling.
"Well, in that case we don't have a choice in the matter. I'll send
a private message to the Hokage as well, though. The thing is, this
guy and I, we kinda grew up together. See, about eight years ago, as
it was going on, that guy literally decided he had the perfect blond
princess and wanted to adopt her into the big family of zabuza**nin.
And apparently we are talking seven or eight years ago," he smirked,
pretending he'd forgotten the details. Kiba snorted. "Plus, the kid's
getting older. I've always been super against it—she was pretty
much created to be a trophy, and if my jounin raised her that way, I
never saw the logic in it—but she's smart as hell. Might end up
helping us take down the criminal element. So, yeah, we're just
calling it quits. While we're there, we're going to start looking
into what info's out there about him and his operations. Also to make
sure we know why we want to look into his activities. I've noticed
you really aren't telling anyone about this."
"Okay, well," Kiba shifted uncomfortably, "I'll report him. What if
the Hokage sees this shit? And yeah, I'll tell the police about it,
because I really want to help you. I'm also gonna make a few requests
and messages for you, though. Some of them might change or be added
to the rules as well. One, just so everyone's on the same page, and
here I'm being serious: please tell me if you get any evidence in
your files about him and his crime syndicate, or otherwise. No matter
what you find, or who you meet, please let me know. My team and I
have also decided to begin tracking down his business associates and
find out where he has his hand in every new gang he's involved in.
That includes business partners, even associates, names you know. I
want to make sure if anything else is going down, it's out there so
it won't just get hidden under someone's back. If you and your team
can find anything, report it, even if it's been done in the past.
Especially if it's been done in the past."
There was a twinkle in his eye as he nodded his head, seeming not to
think it all through.
"Two, she still hasn't told me what to say when we talk about you,
so I'm gonna say this: no matter what happens, I am gonna keep going
for as long as I want to keep finding you and talking to you, or
more. Period." Kiba's gaze dropped from Hanzo's mouth to his own,
brows knitted together in confusion.
"Did you expect me to be, like, forced to give her some answers just
because I've figured out her only weird obsession?" Hanzo crossed his
arms and stared at his reflection in the bare toilet. "And three, no
matter what the situation, I will always tell you everything, even if
it pisses me off that I'm keeping something from you." His eyes were
narrowed in concentration and he pursed them slightly as he tilted
his chin up a bit and stared back at Kiba.
"What?"
"She knows that… she's gotta know. She doesn't know that you'll
want to keep checking in and seeing if she feels the same way I do.
And she's okay with that."
"Is this just one of those days for you too, Hanzo?" Kiba moved
closer, placing himself on the sink just in front of him. He couldn't
miss the smirk creeping up on his friend's face. "You kind of haven't
paid attention in one of your classes. I mean, not paying attention
in the love triangle, but probably." Hanzo broke the gaze, his eyes
darting from Kiba's to the floor, looking away.
"Well, that's because you hadn't picked up my studies. See, we fight
all the time over how to study, and I never do it, my mind stays
focused only on training." Hanzo propped himself up on one elbow,
peeking down at the pants that were draped over the toilet's rim.
"It's okay to fall in love with someone. You just have to try
harder." He pursed his lips as he spoke, growing bolder.
"You know, I don't know what exactly you and Ryou-chan look like
under the hood, but we're definitely a couple. I'd put us on our
tiptoes." He stretched an inch, his other hand coming up to brush his
fingers over Kiba's own knuckles. "Did you ever tell her?"
"No. Why? Because she was my wife," his best friend scoffed, glaring
up at him. "Yeah, sure. What? Are you serious? So you don't trust
me?" Hanzo rolled his eyes as he laid a light kiss on his friend's
stubbled cheek. "We just agreed. Just the way you look like you like
me, I guess."
"Sorry, but I can't fuck off without an explanation. If I don't
understand what's going on between us, then I don't get to fuck off
either. Or even pick and choose which details I want to share, all
the time. To both of us. Which means I'm gonna be on your side no
matter what. Especially when it comes to playing the long game.
Which, no, I haven't worked out."
"Yeah, because you can make up anything you want." Hanzo's smirk
grew as he moved to put an arm around Kiba's shoulders.
"Speaking of fantasies, wouldn't it be ironic if we started saving
an image while I was naked with you the whole time?" Kiba had his
eyebrows raised in surprise. "And I'm pretty sure that after what you
did with Ryou's ring, she'd probably be less tempted to do anything
illegal to me. She'd probably even be more careful about who she
picks for my unprotected flings." Hanzo set their foreheads together,
watching as Kiba shot him a look. "Speaking of touching me… since
our discussion I've decided that we should continue not to physically
hurt each other."
"Okay, sorry, I haven't done anything yet and have considered my
limits…" Kiba coughed hard against the backs of his fingers.
"Wait… so you just don't want us to ever make out with each other?"
Hanzo sat back up on his toes, resting his chin on top of Kiba's
bare chest. "Who knows? You're cute, though."
Kiba huffed a chuckle. "Can we talk about this again later?" His
hands clutched tighter into his friends, one brushing against his arm
and the other rested over his dick.
"Please, y'all. Right now I'd love it if we could stop pretending we
don't know each other for the past couple months."
"No arguing. Now, fuck me, please?"
"Sure." Hanzo slid one of his palms over Kiba's dick, finding that
it felt slippery and full as the warm air was kissed across his skin.
He moved his hand to his mouth, taking the tip into his mouth slowly
before beginning to suck and fuck the tip into his mouth and off his
tongue.
"Ahhh, fuck… fuck." He pulled his thumb up with his hand and bit
down on the skin.
"Kiba." Hanzo pulled away from his mouth, stills squeezing his
asscheeks as he turned away to look at his friend. "You look hot."
"Do I?"
"Especially when you look that good."
"I'm a fucking ninja." Hanzo laughed. "Sorry, love, I didn't mean
for that to come out like that. Hey! There's this one time that Ryou
went to jail that's always making me think about you, okay?"
"Hanzo," Kiba chuckled, leaning down to give his friend a strong
kiss.
"And oh, we didn't end up falling in love."
"Oh, we might have, but the special secret I have on you right
now… Hahahaha! Don't worry, I've always been curious about your
cock. You look pretty good and hard, Kiba. I'd never stopped to
consider the idea, until now. Here's my suggestion, suck me off. It'd
be a great reward for being a good boy. And now that I finally got
some cock, I'm gonna make sure that you know that when you do it,
you'll know exactly how much it means to me." He pouted when he saw
Hanzo's flushed face, his pupils blown wide and lips swollen red.
"Don't you have something better to do?" Hanzo gave Kiba a dirty
look before giving him a light kiss on the lips.
"What's your point? Why not stick your hand right up my ass?"
"Because it's hot. You smell amazing and you can't have bad timing!"
His hand snaked up and his index finger traced the line of his bottom
lip and left a cute bruise on his skin.
"Ha, that's all bullshit."
"Oh no, it's not! I did it to do with just an inch and a half. And I
didn't walk in on a group sex session on the roof! Who's gonna come
and find me? Not Ogami and I!"
"Why do you love me anyway, huhUsing high-speed tokenizer
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The other bit of news was more melancholy. Hiccup was a year younger
than Hiccup and wanted the same thing - an adventure, that could take
him to places he hadn't been before. But, unfortunately, he'd never
been much for shopping, and from what Viggo had told him and my guess
was, he wasn't any better with a pen than he was with words. Which
meant, if he got picked up, it would be *fortunate* for both their
sakes. That same fate took away almost as many victories.
"The sagest moose you've ever seen," came Eric's voice from his side
of the table as soon as the timer on the billy popped back up, and
Viggo held up a hand to warn him. The boys played with it briefly
before wiping off their hands and moving on, only meeting Eric's
stare in time to see he'd paused to point, in short fashion, at the
small road between our cars, and started to back his car up before
moving to the line for the bathroom.
"Eric doesn't like moose," Viggo said quietly, but loudly enough for
both he and Eric to hear. Eric moved a little closer, though still
barely a foot apart, and started to wave his hand back and forth in a
'shoot first, ask questions later' kind of motion.
"That's not true," Eric protested hotly. "We've done to moose that
next door to our house. And we've seen bigger ones. Think you'd like
that?" He came over and stood in front of us, though still too far to
get into any physical contact with us. His eyebrows narrowed a little
in their sharp angles. "But I'm not gonna knock that deep until it's
your turn."
"Me? I thought we were playing volleyball together this entire drive."
"Mmm, I'm going to assume you're going with me on a trip that you
know is destined to be a total disaster. You thought you had
something *different *on the mind, right?"
I felt my shoulders drop as I nodded my answer. "So why are we really
even getting that early lunch now? Come on, if it was this easy,
everyone would've had it handed to them by now!" My face scrunched up
as I thought of all the air-drops and briefings and empty rooms that
had passed me by so far, but instead let the disappointment for other
people sink in. There was nothing like sitting through a four-hour
briefing to remind you just how lucky you were being alive.
I sighed. "I don't know," I admitted, shaking my head at my decision.
"The last time we talked about this, the options we discussed were,
um, deep fried worm rings and rabbit burgers. That and beef skewers.
And then we were just really left hanging for a while."
"Yeah," Eric grunted as he sat down next to me. I didn't have to read
his expression to know his curiosity didn't go anywhere close to
being satisfied. His gaze searched mine for a moment before narrowing
it into an irked expression, but I was quick to respond by offering,
"Yeah. There's a two-story building right across the street. It has a
sign on the front window indicating its sub-minimum wage and minimum
hourly wage."
"Oh yeah?" He sighed heavily. "Like our old neighbor from down the
street, huh?"
I gave him an awkward look, hoping he was watching, but he seemed
mostly intent on having the conversation as quietly and intently as
possible. It was beginning to look like we were both beyond the point
of mild sarcasm when I looked back up and saw him tilting his head in
answer. "Got a problem with that? Like, not with paying people low
wages?"
"Yeah. I don't know, man. It's just that most places that serve food
and coffee don't offer anyone with kids lunch. The restaurants serve
'fancy' things like cinnamon rolls or the like," Eric said slowly.
"The houses are farther out, and they never seem to put out proper
meals. Maybe not anymore, I don't think, but..." He shook his head.
"I don't know. I mean, I know about halfway through the internet,
they moved up towards shoreline."
I frowned. "Where?"
Eric shook his head again, this time looking confused. "Like, they
don't put anything on the sign saying that. Nothing, it's just a
block from here." He looked at me, "Do you think that should be one
of the requirements for entry, like not being pregnant, having
allergies, lactose intolerance, blood that isn't yours, etcetera?"
"Um...maybe," I said. "Unless there's something special about the
neighborhood, I'm not sure I can think of any where a child could
stay a week that doesn't suck."
"Well, I don't care how close to the house someone lives if they just
eat and work in the evening, and make no mention to your client that
they're seeing a little kid?"
"So they can talk about sandwiches, cake, ice cream, anything. No
perks?" I frowned. "What, you're on the dogpile that says money makes
the world go round?"
"No, I'll take cash tomorrow. Tomorrow morning, on the dotted line,
then, don't think too much about it," Eric said warily. "I think
there'll be some happy days in the future."
"Is that what you want? 'And then, don't think about it'?" I smiled
at him, a little amused. "Because, I *think *you want to know if any
of your children will make you regret ever having existed as a human
being? Not a day, not a moment, but yesterday. Everything can be
taken away, especially if you're too poor to afford and love your
children." I tried to push my point, trying to keep my voice down,
and maybe even amused myself when it got a surprised, low whistle.
"First of all, I don't know what to say to that," Eric said, his brow
furrowed in concentration. "Secondly, having kids doesn't just throw
my family into utter destitution, no matter how often I hear somebody
talking about it. First of all, you made it very clear that there are
many, many of us out here. So don't care too much." He looked at me,
his eyes watery. "But what if your children don't want to do this?
What if you care more about friends and family, than things like
being hungry or possibly failing their elementary school test, or
being forced into military service out of fear for their lives?" He
nodded at me. "Do you have any option aside from the kid's shit
burger buying job? There's the only option there you chose?" I bit my
lip. "Diving into a freaking vat full of cow shit with bare hands?"
He nodded again. "Of course there is. Why the hell not?"
I watched the wheels grinding in his brain for a few seconds. "I'm
going to give you a tour," I said. "I'm interested in figuring out if
you think maybe that's not all bad."
"Sure."
"You know, I know you're too busy with a grown dog, but can you ask
me to stand and watch you do some work for a couple of hours? Of
course you can!" I grinned, but the corners of his mouth had turned
up in response. He smiled, and there was a little bit of crooked
smile to it that I could see made the corners of his mouth turn up.
"Is that some new chain of restaurants?" He asked as we walked. "Oh.
And you're going to pay me?"
"Can I pay you?" I asked with a wry smirk.
"How much did you just pay me?"
"Yeah." I gave him an appraisal. "The 'softest shoes' may have to
come off soon, Cadet." He sat back on the steps, leaned over his
binoculars, and waited for me to climb up on the roof and help him
look around. "I always knew I would." He reached out a hand and let
me catch hold of his fingers. "Thanks, E." He leaned a little in my
direction, half of his body about three feet away from me. I flicked
my left thumb at him, and he instantly straightened his stance. "Got
this," he said in almost a sneer.
"I know," I mumbled.
"Not gonna lie. I doubt there's going to be any expensive job." He
opened the door, and started jiggling the windows with one hand.
"Let's start with the security doors. You've heard of those by now?"
"None," I grumbled.
"That's not the point, though." He dropped the binoculars on the dirt
road, and swept his gaze over the cracked windows. "I live in Los
Angeles. What more reason do I need to know the secret to breaking
glass, than living in this cesspool of humanity?"
"For once," I said dryly. "This is L.A. I may have never known my own
bathroom walls were so weak, but I have heard enough about LA to know
that once it starts raining, there's a reason nobody stays out late."
"So, what, you're about to haul me out to my little secret closet and
run me through a psych test? How much stronger than crap does it make
you think this is going to break in half? That you could leave right
now? Because I can't."
"Uh-huh. You don't look very convincing in it. So, if you want this
job, and I can do this without falling to pieces on the side of the
road, you gotta convince me that we can get this job done." He
shrugged. "Nuh uh. You're too smart to do it to yourself."
"Don't sweat it, this is a competitive world, Eric. Think of your
future."
"Good," he said, dropping his binoculars on the ground. "Yeah. Fine.
Do you think I can figure out a way to read that paper-track mark up
in front of me?"
"Who says you can?"
"Are you worried I can't?" He tilted his head towards me.
"A little...But then, why wouldn't I assume you're good enough?" I
paused for a moment. "Hey, Eric...I want to help. I'm serious about
this. Seriously. Let me do this for real. This isn't just something
I'm gonna be pulling out of my ass."
"Not for real? You mean this. Your secret measure of human worth, and
thus of humanity's worth?"
"Yes. Well, you do us both a favor, by doing this. Let me go outside,
and help you analyze your fucking floor plans." He turned around with
a determined expression. "And I am concerned that I'm going to fall
on my ass if I can't manage to pull this trick off before you do that
thing with your eyes."
"What a tough guy you are, Cadet," he snarked. I found myself
frowning slightly, because he was staring me down like he was doing
for the first time. I dropped the handkerchief I was holding. I
actually had a lot of respect for this guy. A little. I was really
grateful that he was so willing to put himself at risk in order to do
this. "You do realize that you're going to get attacked, right? You'd
better not let me take my eyes off you. And I bet if you weren't
here, it'd be impossible to get another glimpse." He shoved the bag
into my hands. "Get ready to move, Cadet."
"Duly noted."
"As you say, well-trained as you are, I didn't want to attack you
when you're so easily distracted. And I sure hope I didn't get anyone
in here confused between sight and smell or touch. I mean, the blind
kid in here says it's true, right? Something smells really good!
Wouldn't be surprised if there's a keg down below?"
I threw him the same look I always gave people who got a particularly
hard look or two. "What do you expect me to believe, isn't it just
smoke-and-mirrors theory of 'who knows best'. There are only so many
ways of taking a guess at my safety."
He shook his head. "Look, you gotta do the honors, and me trying to
wave in the wind wasn't a very good example to follow."
"E...Eric, we have work to do, not being slaves to our hormones."
"I know. Good move, guys. Give it one more try."
I smiled at him. "It'll take more than a suit on to get me through
this part. Speaking of giving it a try, these guys think it might be
important, so it's probably fair game to see."
"Get it?" He peered at the bag, almost like he was calculating odds.
"Let's just say I can find out more about you than this guy can.
Maybe you'll catch on sooner or later, eh?"
I was nearly giddy. This guy...it was so much fun to see him. "Right.
Next question." I sniffed the bag. "Do you know how to turn on a
light, still? Is there a built-in timer?"
"Guess. Probably. But that doesn't count as a yes. Okay, I guess." He
patted himself down, including his shoes, then peeled back his shirt,
revealing the slender shape of his abdomen. "Right." Then, swiping
one finger under the silk shirt and attaching the tip of his finger
to the zipper of his jeans, he opened the garment panel on the
zipper, tearing off a portion to reveal another section where the
zipper raised, exposing two thin muscle fibers, a pale tube of skin
sitting between them. "Cadet, did you not tell me you already smelled
good? Eh, too bad." The light bulb lit behind his eyes, making me
jolt. "That's from my asshole on your shoulders. Turn off the light."
"Yeah. I gotta say, I know you like the smell of some cock. Not sure
you're in my right mind to be opening that place, but...uh, turns
out, it smells weird, but good. Let's get this bag over to the dark
one."
"Aw, you're gonna have trouble with it." I rubbed the silk bag. "That
pretty boy won't be much help."
"You're not the best threat, kid. Now let's get this bitch nice and
warm on the bench while I call in the taxi for the shit he needs." He
banged on the door. "Harken?"
"On it." I heard the background sound of running water. He had gotten
me by the apartment while I was waiting on him. A little bit of
giving him the benefit of the doubt, but I suppose I had a point. "If
that dirty smell hasn't got you boners, then so do we. Just
remember...without heat, your ass won't be getting any of the cum."
/chapter content Chapter 6
---------
Chapter Notes
> But not here, because .../a/ can wait until later. I'm posting this
instead. Gonna just post it early on Monday afternoon when all the
comments are gone.
>
> chapter content "It's hotter outside than you think, boy," he
grunted.
"You don't know that, Valor. Look, this is it, and I don't care how
many other guys I can come across. We ain't into each other, not with
this crap going on. Once you fuckin' pull a fuckin' joke on me, I
will kick your ass straight outta here."
"I am sorry."
"You don't owe me anything."
"You are not an idiot, boy. I've been looking for a man like that
since I was sixteen."
"Well, he's gone."
He growled, forcing me to drop my jaw. "But I'm not done with you
yet. I could kick your ass on top of everything else. Is there no way
of letting me go? After all, ain't ya' sure of yourself, boy?"
"Well, yeah."
He closed the gap. "Great. Will ya' try to remember what I say, boy,
orUsing high-speed tokenizer
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"So you want to watch a movie, but you don't really know what to
expect?"
"I'm used to finding low-budget films for laughs, so it makes
sense. I'm watching *Life of Pi*. You? I guess if I'm being honest I
expected something more—and it's actually quite good."
"You're spoiling yourself. So what do you think, is this going to
work, or are you just going to drown in jealousy?
*Spoilsport.*" Ushijima shrugs.
*Then why did you care enough to ask me?*
"I figured if it wasn't better than *my* favourite movies, I'd give
it a try. Are we agreeing on something, Yachi?" Ushijima is looking
between the two with a gleam in his eyes.
"That depends," Yachi says, her brow furrowed. "If you haven't
already watched *Life of Pi*, no. But I'll be happy to rent it, as
long as it's yours."
Ushijima blinks at Yachi's close proximity, her hand a light press
against his arm.
"Why are you holding my arm like that?"
He puts on a smile, her softness stopping him from answering.
"You like it?"
Yachi peeks up at him. Ushijima looks away, his eyebrows arched
slightly. "Just barely. It's not good."
Ushijima sags, nodding slowly. "Then I'm glad we came to an
agreement."
A small, amused laugh escapes Yachi before she quickly shakes her
head and continues talking, watching her master with a critical eye.
"Just know I don't feel this way towards you if you give up on this
film after even seeing it once. Of course you wouldn't understand."
"I suppose not," he agrees. "Thank you for letting me rent this for
you, by the way."
"Of course," she agrees, twirling around him in the lab coat to pat
his leg. "I know you haven't seen a negative movie in ages. Take my
word for it."
Ushijima returns to sitting on the couch while Yachi holds the
whiteboard she's been using for outlining, eventually drifting off to
sleep after an earlier movie or two. She stays close to him every now
and then to try to remind him that something is so right about his
world that he can't possibly fully comprehend it himself. It's almost
as though all of their problems stem from the same place, only with
differences and differences that might just define themselves as
different problems in a given situation, rather than overwhelming
differences that would rival any rivals in depth.
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\_\_\_Using high-speed tokenizer
attach_debugger <function attach_debugger at 0x7f72a9726d08>
print_status <function print_status at 0x7f72a9726d90>
freeze_forever <function freeze_forever at 0x7f72a9726f28>
quit <function quit at 0x7f72a9728048>
save_and_quit <function save_and_quit at 0x7f72a9728158>
clear_context <function clear_context at 0x7f72d24efe18>
He briefly looked down at his own side before looking back at her
with a sigh. "Look, Chloe, I wanted to tell you earlier but then it
got so complicated that there was nowhere to be found. Look, I know
you were really busy with trying to be something other than what you
are, and by the sounds of things you've made it pretty darn hard, but
let me make it really clear, we don't have to get to know each other
or anything."
"I want to know."
"Then tell me that you want to know, and we'll go from there. This
may be more for your benefit than mine."
"I like you," she whispered, her voice still raw and guarded from
the last few days. "And now you're saying I shouldn't even be here?"
"What do you need me to say, Johnny?"
"I like you."…[File truncated due to length; see original file]…