![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beansideTitle: Rain Down Fire
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nilchance and beanside
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Never happened. Entirely fiction
A/N: Many, many thanks to our awesome beta for this part,mona1347
Even while he was fuming about being hung up on this morning, Christian had to give it to Jeff. He was the only person Chris knew who would continue to house an assassin after learning he himself was the target. Jeff took generosity of spirit to a suicidal extreme, as usual.
Chris'd been planning to head up to the house, to check on things, but then he'd noticed Jeff's transport parked outside the market. He slipped into the market, giving Paul and Samantha quick nods. He was a semi-regular at the cafe for lunch. It was a nice reminder of sanity when the sheer scope of the corruption and taint in land the US just rose up like a wave and threatened to smother him. All his work was like throwing a single sandbag in front of a tidal wave.
It had been nearly sixteen years since the day Morgan had freed him, and he'd learned the meaning behind her pained smile. Nikki, his "sister" and fellow slave, wouldn't be leaving with him. She'd been the love of his life, whatever that was worth, and he'd had to walk away and leave her behind. Morgan had needed Nikki to break in her newest spy, a boy that Kane never met but heard plenty about. Morgan's pet, her little ball of fury and cunning tucked behind a pretty face.
He'd hated Morgan for keeping Nikki behind. On the bad days, he still did. Nikki deserved better than to be another body in an unmarked grave. She'd deserved to be the one standing on this side of the border.
It had taken years to even begin to understand the scope of the games the former first lady played. Like any professional gambler, she had chips down in every game--but they all were for the same win. To protect the last surviving member of her blood, Matthew Jeffrey Dean.
Every time Chris had whored himself, every moment spent on his knees or back, was to protect this one man. It had seemed asinine, incredibly naive to think that one man could change the clusterfuck the United States had become.
Then he'd met Jeff. From there, he realized maybe Morgan had a point. Considering that Jeff hadn't had a home since he was ten, on the run through most of his life, he was remarkably well adjusted. Also, considering that he had been carrying the weight of a nation for that same amount of time, the fact that he was sane was kind of amazing. Not always a nice man, but a good one. One that Chris would die for. One that he would kill for.
He traversed the sparsely populated market quickly. A flare of terror settled in his stomach when he caught sight of Jensen sitting at the back table alone. Jesus. Was he already too late?
Jensen looked up when Christian got close. He seemed startled, nervous, but not really guilty. Then again, Morgan had drilled the guilt out of them early. "Hi," Jensen murmured cautiously, looking up through his lashes at Christian. "Jeff just went to the bathroom."
Okay. Good. Christian slid into the seat next to Jensen, barring his exit, and flashed him an easy smile. Morgan had been right; Jensen was pretty. "How're you doin', little brother?"
"I'm okay," Jensen said, shifting away from him. "Little brother?"
"Just a figure of speech." I miss Morgan, too. "Seeing as we're in this together."
"Oh." Jensen stared down at the mica flecked granite table under his hands like it held the answers of the universe. He looked like hell, his hands scraped raw and gouges under his eyes.
Against his better judgement, Chris felt himself start to soften. "You look a little lost."
Jensen shook his head quickly. "No, I'm f-"
Christian raised one eyebrow.
"I don't know what I'm doing," Jensen blurted.
Grudgingly, Christian smiled. Honesty was better than he'd expected. And hadn't they all gone through that in the beginning? From hell to normalcy in a matter of days; the shift in pressure alone could make anyone crack. "Yeah?"
"Two days ago, things sucked, but it was predictable." Jensen scowled at the table. "I don't know what you people want. I didn't expect-"
Silence drew out long as Jensen caught himself mid-sentence.
"Go on," Chris said. He let himself use the survivor voice; trust me, and I'll lead you through it. Interrogation or refugee intake, it was always a matter of probing at the cracks until the truth bled through. "Didn't expect what?"
Jensen looked around the cafe. "All of this-" His face softened, relaxing, and Chris followed his gaze to find Jeff approaching.
Well, hell. Maybe the dumb bastard was right after all. Didn't mean he was forgiving Jeff for hanging up on him. He turned his best glare on Jeff, flashing a less than friendly smile.
"Hey, hoss," Christian drawled. "Just getting acquainted with your new boy."
Jeff had a strained look on his face. Nothing that anyone else would notice, but then, Chris had known him for a long time. "Hey," Jeff said, flashing teeth. "Just the guy I was hoping to see. You saved me a call."
Ah, hell. "Yeah?"
"This year's fundraiser is coming up. I was thinking for the Kimball Ball, we should go with a nostalgia them." Jeff dropped into the other side of the booth, holding Christian's eyes hard. "Casablanca it up. Maybe get Lt. Gerard to DJ it."
Kane nodded, expression bland. Fuck. Casablanca and The Fugitive. If he was remembering the code they hadn't used in over five years right, Jeff was saying that they'd had a tail, and that it was about time to run again.
"Really? That could be an event."
"Yeah." Jeff wiped his hands on his pants, grimacing. "Hell of a mess in the bathroom. Between the dirt and the stench from the dumpster outside... smelled like something died out there."
"They should really get that cleaned up," Christian said.
Jeff met his eyes, nodding. "Exactly." He turned back to Jensen with an easy grin. "Anything look good on the menu?"
Rolling his eyes, Chris palmed his wireless. "Crap. I got a call coming in. Order me a tuna sub, willya?" He walked towards the bathrooms, ducking out next to the building.
Sure enough, there was a spot where the blood had started to soak through the layer of snow Jeff must have kicked over it. Jeff didn't fight pretty, especially when he was pissed. They probably needed to have another chat about not taking shit personally.
When he opened the dumpster, Chris bit back a curse. Jesus. Don't make things easy, Jeff, he thought, thumbing the button on the wireless.
"Agency, this is Michael."
"Why is our shrink answering the phones, Rosey?" Kane asked.
"Kristin had a...feminine issue. I told her I'd take her shift."
"Feminine issue? What the hell does that mean?" Kane growled.
Michael was quiet for a moment. "She said something about blowing clots. I didn't really ask after that."
"Jesus Christ, don't tell me that, Rosenbaum!" Kane rubbed his eyes like it would scrub the thought away. "Fine. Give me to either Mack or Tom."
"Can do."
A moment later, Tom's gravel voice came on the line. "Welling. What's up, Chris?"
"I've got a dead Yank in the dumpster outside the Market. I need a quiet clean up, STAT."
"Got it. On my way. Did you do the honors?"
"Nah. Found him like this."
"I see. Are we concerned about the perp?"
Christian smiled. "Fucker got what he deserved. See if there's anything on him to tie him into Jonas' killing, too."
Tom sighed. "Jesus, give me the easy jobs."
"Yeah? Get a round or two off next time, cowboy, and then neither of us will have to worry about it."
"Fuck you," Tom grumbled. "Hey, while I've got you...do you have the scrambler on you?"
The scrambler was a nice little piece of work that would fuck any incoming wireless signal all to hell. It was one of Chris' favorite toys. "Yeah, why?"
"Grant's been picking up a lot of tracers coming into the area. Especially out near Jeff and Jared's place. They're consistent with a scorpion implant." Chris could hear Tom shuffling papers. "Any chance the new guy... Jensen, right? Any chance he's chipped?"
"I'll check on it," Chris promised. "You get this body outta here." He hung up while Tom was still protesting on the other line and headed back into the market.
If they'd chipped Jensen, this had just gotten more complicated. Especially if it was a scorpion, the nasty little fuckers. Created to keep some of the more unruly slaves in line, it hooked into a muscle with a tiny whiplike tail, thus the name. Scorpions had a dual purpose. For the mildly out of line slave, it would produce a low amp electrical charge. It wouldn't kill you, but it would hurt like nothing else. The second part was for the slave who got beyond his master's control. A tiny dose of neurotoxin would release into the system, and the slave would be dead before he hit the ground.
If he gave Jeff the scrambler, it would keep them from killing Jensen outright. But they'd know that he'd been made. They'd probably send someone.
It didn't bode well for Jensen's continued existence.
For now, he'd give Jensen the benefit of the doubt. But if he was considering fulfilling his mission, or if he put Jared or Jeff in danger? Morgan's or not, Christian'd take the son of a bitch down.
Authors:
nilchance and beansideRating: R
Disclaimer: Never happened. Entirely fiction
A/N: Many, many thanks to our awesome beta for this part,
mona1347Even while he was fuming about being hung up on this morning, Christian had to give it to Jeff. He was the only person Chris knew who would continue to house an assassin after learning he himself was the target. Jeff took generosity of spirit to a suicidal extreme, as usual.
Chris'd been planning to head up to the house, to check on things, but then he'd noticed Jeff's transport parked outside the market. He slipped into the market, giving Paul and Samantha quick nods. He was a semi-regular at the cafe for lunch. It was a nice reminder of sanity when the sheer scope of the corruption and taint in land the US just rose up like a wave and threatened to smother him. All his work was like throwing a single sandbag in front of a tidal wave.
It had been nearly sixteen years since the day Morgan had freed him, and he'd learned the meaning behind her pained smile. Nikki, his "sister" and fellow slave, wouldn't be leaving with him. She'd been the love of his life, whatever that was worth, and he'd had to walk away and leave her behind. Morgan had needed Nikki to break in her newest spy, a boy that Kane never met but heard plenty about. Morgan's pet, her little ball of fury and cunning tucked behind a pretty face.
He'd hated Morgan for keeping Nikki behind. On the bad days, he still did. Nikki deserved better than to be another body in an unmarked grave. She'd deserved to be the one standing on this side of the border.
It had taken years to even begin to understand the scope of the games the former first lady played. Like any professional gambler, she had chips down in every game--but they all were for the same win. To protect the last surviving member of her blood, Matthew Jeffrey Dean.
Every time Chris had whored himself, every moment spent on his knees or back, was to protect this one man. It had seemed asinine, incredibly naive to think that one man could change the clusterfuck the United States had become.
Then he'd met Jeff. From there, he realized maybe Morgan had a point. Considering that Jeff hadn't had a home since he was ten, on the run through most of his life, he was remarkably well adjusted. Also, considering that he had been carrying the weight of a nation for that same amount of time, the fact that he was sane was kind of amazing. Not always a nice man, but a good one. One that Chris would die for. One that he would kill for.
He traversed the sparsely populated market quickly. A flare of terror settled in his stomach when he caught sight of Jensen sitting at the back table alone. Jesus. Was he already too late?
Jensen looked up when Christian got close. He seemed startled, nervous, but not really guilty. Then again, Morgan had drilled the guilt out of them early. "Hi," Jensen murmured cautiously, looking up through his lashes at Christian. "Jeff just went to the bathroom."
Okay. Good. Christian slid into the seat next to Jensen, barring his exit, and flashed him an easy smile. Morgan had been right; Jensen was pretty. "How're you doin', little brother?"
"I'm okay," Jensen said, shifting away from him. "Little brother?"
"Just a figure of speech." I miss Morgan, too. "Seeing as we're in this together."
"Oh." Jensen stared down at the mica flecked granite table under his hands like it held the answers of the universe. He looked like hell, his hands scraped raw and gouges under his eyes.
Against his better judgement, Chris felt himself start to soften. "You look a little lost."
Jensen shook his head quickly. "No, I'm f-"
Christian raised one eyebrow.
"I don't know what I'm doing," Jensen blurted.
Grudgingly, Christian smiled. Honesty was better than he'd expected. And hadn't they all gone through that in the beginning? From hell to normalcy in a matter of days; the shift in pressure alone could make anyone crack. "Yeah?"
"Two days ago, things sucked, but it was predictable." Jensen scowled at the table. "I don't know what you people want. I didn't expect-"
Silence drew out long as Jensen caught himself mid-sentence.
"Go on," Chris said. He let himself use the survivor voice; trust me, and I'll lead you through it. Interrogation or refugee intake, it was always a matter of probing at the cracks until the truth bled through. "Didn't expect what?"
Jensen looked around the cafe. "All of this-" His face softened, relaxing, and Chris followed his gaze to find Jeff approaching.
Well, hell. Maybe the dumb bastard was right after all. Didn't mean he was forgiving Jeff for hanging up on him. He turned his best glare on Jeff, flashing a less than friendly smile.
"Hey, hoss," Christian drawled. "Just getting acquainted with your new boy."
Jeff had a strained look on his face. Nothing that anyone else would notice, but then, Chris had known him for a long time. "Hey," Jeff said, flashing teeth. "Just the guy I was hoping to see. You saved me a call."
Ah, hell. "Yeah?"
"This year's fundraiser is coming up. I was thinking for the Kimball Ball, we should go with a nostalgia them." Jeff dropped into the other side of the booth, holding Christian's eyes hard. "Casablanca it up. Maybe get Lt. Gerard to DJ it."
Kane nodded, expression bland. Fuck. Casablanca and The Fugitive. If he was remembering the code they hadn't used in over five years right, Jeff was saying that they'd had a tail, and that it was about time to run again.
"Really? That could be an event."
"Yeah." Jeff wiped his hands on his pants, grimacing. "Hell of a mess in the bathroom. Between the dirt and the stench from the dumpster outside... smelled like something died out there."
"They should really get that cleaned up," Christian said.
Jeff met his eyes, nodding. "Exactly." He turned back to Jensen with an easy grin. "Anything look good on the menu?"
Rolling his eyes, Chris palmed his wireless. "Crap. I got a call coming in. Order me a tuna sub, willya?" He walked towards the bathrooms, ducking out next to the building.
Sure enough, there was a spot where the blood had started to soak through the layer of snow Jeff must have kicked over it. Jeff didn't fight pretty, especially when he was pissed. They probably needed to have another chat about not taking shit personally.
When he opened the dumpster, Chris bit back a curse. Jesus. Don't make things easy, Jeff, he thought, thumbing the button on the wireless.
"Agency, this is Michael."
"Why is our shrink answering the phones, Rosey?" Kane asked.
"Kristin had a...feminine issue. I told her I'd take her shift."
"Feminine issue? What the hell does that mean?" Kane growled.
Michael was quiet for a moment. "She said something about blowing clots. I didn't really ask after that."
"Jesus Christ, don't tell me that, Rosenbaum!" Kane rubbed his eyes like it would scrub the thought away. "Fine. Give me to either Mack or Tom."
"Can do."
A moment later, Tom's gravel voice came on the line. "Welling. What's up, Chris?"
"I've got a dead Yank in the dumpster outside the Market. I need a quiet clean up, STAT."
"Got it. On my way. Did you do the honors?"
"Nah. Found him like this."
"I see. Are we concerned about the perp?"
Christian smiled. "Fucker got what he deserved. See if there's anything on him to tie him into Jonas' killing, too."
Tom sighed. "Jesus, give me the easy jobs."
"Yeah? Get a round or two off next time, cowboy, and then neither of us will have to worry about it."
"Fuck you," Tom grumbled. "Hey, while I've got you...do you have the scrambler on you?"
The scrambler was a nice little piece of work that would fuck any incoming wireless signal all to hell. It was one of Chris' favorite toys. "Yeah, why?"
"Grant's been picking up a lot of tracers coming into the area. Especially out near Jeff and Jared's place. They're consistent with a scorpion implant." Chris could hear Tom shuffling papers. "Any chance the new guy... Jensen, right? Any chance he's chipped?"
"I'll check on it," Chris promised. "You get this body outta here." He hung up while Tom was still protesting on the other line and headed back into the market.
If they'd chipped Jensen, this had just gotten more complicated. Especially if it was a scorpion, the nasty little fuckers. Created to keep some of the more unruly slaves in line, it hooked into a muscle with a tiny whiplike tail, thus the name. Scorpions had a dual purpose. For the mildly out of line slave, it would produce a low amp electrical charge. It wouldn't kill you, but it would hurt like nothing else. The second part was for the slave who got beyond his master's control. A tiny dose of neurotoxin would release into the system, and the slave would be dead before he hit the ground.
If he gave Jeff the scrambler, it would keep them from killing Jensen outright. But they'd know that he'd been made. They'd probably send someone.
It didn't bode well for Jensen's continued existence.
For now, he'd give Jensen the benefit of the doubt. But if he was considering fulfilling his mission, or if he put Jared or Jeff in danger? Morgan's or not, Christian'd take the son of a bitch down.
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 03:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 03:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 03:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 03:42 pm (UTC)I'm loving it all :D
*showers you both with rose petals*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 03:43 pm (UTC)Once again I loved the voices. Jensen came across lost and a little scared and completely confused. Christian is hard and determined and ruthless, but there's a part of him that can still melt.
The never-seen (except in that one small flashback of Jensen's) Morgan is, I think, one of the most fascinating characters. She kept slaves, she whored them out, she put them in danger and she spent their lives for her own purposes, and yet they seem to have loved her. Very intriguing.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 04:19 pm (UTC)"How're you doin', little brother?"
I love the implications of that, how tied together they are, even though Jensen doesn't know it. Not just Morgan, but Nikki, too. ::waits patiently for more::
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 04:24 pm (UTC)i love the characters and i feel so bad for jensen being caught in the miserable middle
can't wait for more!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 04:41 pm (UTC)(look at Chris. How SHINY he is. A man like that? SHOULD LIVE FOREVER. I'm just saying...)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 05:36 pm (UTC)Blast .. I hope you update soon, I don't think I'll ever get enough of this.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 05:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 06:23 pm (UTC)*geeks out*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 06:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 07:46 pm (UTC)Ah, Kane. How do I love thee? How do I love that Jensen's been made by everyone and they're still covering him? And that Jeff is going code and covert? And... GOD I just love this.
Keep 'em coming. This is how I survive finals.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 08:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 09:02 pm (UTC)Still not getting any work done... *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 09:36 pm (UTC)You leave me wanting more. As ever. Oh, how much do I love this verse, and everyone in it. I'm not sure who I want to cuddle most, so I'll just open my arms and offer hugs to anyone who needs them.
More please? *flutters eyelashes*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 10:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 10:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 11:44 pm (UTC)So no one is thinking about maybe confronting Jensen with what they know. huh. Or clueing Jared in. Does he really not know who Jeff is?
And since I don't know (hey, it's not my first language after all) what 'blowing clots' means - and I'm sure I'll regret asking - what does it mean..? :b
ps. thanks for the friending!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 12:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 12:34 am (UTC)I await with breath bated.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 12:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 09:20 am (UTC)Does that make me slow? o____o
no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 04:42 pm (UTC)And I am glad Jeff fights dirty and goes for the kill,if needed-as lovely as Jensen is,he is anassasin and a danger...
And Kane is all kinds of awesome:)
More,please!!!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 06:03 pm (UTC)