Authors: Sonny,Ais
"Have you ever met her? She's pretty... abrupt."
"I hadn't formally met her before, no," Boyd replied. He stood and walked to the side of the room to grab some fresh towels that were stocked on a shelf. He walked back over to Ryan and tossed one into his lap.
Ryan nodded and finished the water, setting it aside and wiping his face with the towel. There was a thoughtful silence for a moment, and then he glanced at Boyd sidelong.
"Have you talked to Sin lately?"
"Not since after the debriefing," Boyd said, slightly subdued. He looked away from Ryan, his eyes narrowing. He wiped his face with the towel, his voice a little muffled when he asked, "Why?"
"I dunno..." the R&D agent trailed off slightly before clearing his throat and sitting up straight. He looked hesitant about whatever he was about to say but pushed on anyway. "I guess I just wondered if stuff was cool with you two after... Thierry."
Boyd watched Ryan for a long moment and then sighed. He sat back down on the mat, slouching forward as he looked away pensively. "I don't know. I don't think it is, really. He was angry with me for ignoring all his warnings. But I didn't know about valentines. I had no idea anything like that existed. If I had..." His expression pinched and he shook his head.
Ryan frowned slightly, seeming to think this over. After a moment he got to his feet and said slowly, "You know, I don't know if anyone really knows other than word of mouth. They don't really tell everyone everything until it's necessary, you know?"
"On topics like that I wish they had. I feel like an idiot for how this all turned out and I wish I could take it back. Now Sin says I'm going to get that status and they can make me do anything they want. And I don't know anything about it-- what I'd have to do, or how often, or what happens if I can't follow through on something they expect of me..."
He looked up at Ryan, not bothering to hide the worry that had been plaguing him. "Do you know anything? What should I expect now? And is it positive I'll become a valentine or is it possible they wouldn't assign me?"
Ryan grimaced and leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his t-shirt. He traced lines on the floor with the toe of his sneaker, lips eyebrows bunched together over the rim of his glasses. "Brutal honesty? Yeah, they're probably gonna give you valentine designation. It's hard to find people with the chops to pull it off, and right now it looks like you can and are willing to take that step without them even twisting your arm. It would be really weird if they didn't designate you, to be honest. But even if they do, it might be awhile before it even really matters. Like, full on valentine missions are pretty rare. Seduction may be the oldest tool in the book but there aren't many people around anymore who would buy it. Most people, especially in our world, like... are way too suspicious, you know? Most valentines are just distraction missions. Smile at person A, while person B slips in the back, or do like a honey trap and draw someone into an alley and our guys are waiting-- you know?"
Boyd sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He couldn't say he hadn't been expecting that answer but it was still disappointing, even if he couldn't blame anyone but himself. At least it didn't sound like it was something he would have to worry about happening frequently. Not that the thought was much comfort even in his own mind.
He was silent for a moment before he pushed himself to a stand and crossed his arms. He looked away with a brooding pull on his eyes. "You know the worst part? It was all meaningless. I never would've had sex with him if I hadn't thought it was necessary to get the information, but Thierry played me. He sent the
Intel
here before I even went to his house. And the whole night, every time I tried to get the information he just sidestepped until I felt like it was the only way. So I end up with that designation for the rest of my life because he wanted to fuck me, and I was so worried about the consequences of failing that I went along with it."
His expression tightened in anger briefly before it shifted to frustration. "And now, everything with Sin... I thought-- Well, we almost--" He frowned and waved a hand. "But it's all pointless now. He's disgusted with me and thinks I'm an idiot and he's right."
"What's pointless?" Ryan asked, eyebrows raising. "What happened?"
Boyd sighed again. He ran a hand somewhat restlessly back through his hair and turned to look at Ryan more fully. "We got into an argument when I got back from Thierry's. He had me against the wall and somehow from there we started kissing. We were nearly to sex when I panicked."
At this, Ryan's mouth dropped open. He made a few unintelligible sounds and gestured vaguely before shaking his head back and forth. "Whoa! Like-- whoa! I had a feeling he liked you but, I didn't know it was that... intense yet."
Boyd looked at Ryan with drawn eyebrows. "What gave you the impression that he liked me?"
Ryan shrugged, straightening his t-shirt and shifting slightly. A faint look of discomfort shrouded his thin face and he turned redder than the flush that already stained his pale skin.
"Well for one, he always watches you during briefings and stuff. Like, intently. But then again, he's so not like... socially normal that I thought maybe that's just a thing of his. But then... like, okay, so don't freak out on me about this it was a total accident and a total coincidence, but one night awhile ago I saw him storming back into the compound by himself after a mission. He looked so freaking pissed and upset, that I got really curious because I knew both of you were supposed to be together. So later on when I went home I kept thinking about it and I kind of saw you two on the feed..."
Boyd's eyebrows ticked up slightly as he thought back on that night. He wasn't surprised to know that anyone had overseen that, considering it had been right in view of the very same cameras he'd been using to watch Sin.
"Oh." Boyd paused. "That did get intense."
"Yeah... so I kind of drew my own conclusions," Ryan said sheepishly. "That he liked you in a kind of aggressive... alarming way."
Boyd let out a short, humorless laugh at that. "That's probably a good way of putting it. I don't even know what to do about it. I just--" He stopped himself, his eyes narrowing as frustration moved within him the way it always seemed to in regards to Sin.
"He makes me so angry sometimes. I've never met anyone who manages to get under my skin in a way that makes me react so poorly. But I can't stop being intrigued by him. And when we kissed--" He shook his head, his eyes narrowing in remembrance. "It was addictive and... hungry. It sounds stupid to say but it felt electric. Everything about him riles me up, in good ways and bad, and there are times it drives me nuts and other times I feel like I never want to walk away even if I could."
By the time he was done talking, Ryan's eyes had widened slightly. For someone who had admitted to having a crush on Sin, he didn't appear envious at all. There was a kind of wonder in his expression, as if he was witnessing something miraculous.
"If it's like that for you, I bet it's the same for him which is pretty freaking wow considering... I dunno. You know how antisocial he is."
"I don't know what he thinks but I'm not going to assume he feels the same way," Boyd said, his tone more resigned than anything. "Obviously he must be physically attracted to me considering the situations we've been in but it seems more and more that he doesn't like me as a person. It took me so long to convince him I wasn't out to get him and even then he kept distrusting everything I did. And now after everything with Thierry..." He shook his head. "He thinks I'm an idiot and an asshole and I don't know if that will ever change enough for it to matter."
"But why?" Ryan pressed. "Because you did the whole valentine thing unknowingly?"
"Yes. And because I ignored him every time he tried to warn me. And--" He stopped and lifted his hands in a gesture before dropping them at his sides. "And before that we were already having troubles because of something else that happened. The more that happens, the less I feel like there's a way out of any of it."
They stood in silence for a few moments with Ryan watching him carefully. He was fiddling with his t-shirt and scuffing his sneaker against the floor as he appeared to turn something over in his mind. His expression went through a variety of metamorphoses before he finally sighed and shook his head.
"Y'know, I'm not a big expert on this stuff. I've never even been in a real relationship and I'm twenty-five, but like..." He trailed off for a minute, bit his lip and then shrugged before pressing on. "But I saw the way both of you guys were at the start of this whole thing, and if you two could have that kind of intense fire stuff considering the way you both were... I dunno, I wouldn't give up so easy. But then again, maybe I read too much fanfic."
Boyd watched Ryan for an extended moment and then looked away. His expression was pensive and his fingers curled around one side of the towel before he pulled it off.
"We'll see," he said dubiously and turned toward the door. "I think I'm going to leave. Are you going to stay longer? We do technically have the room for another fifteen minutes."
"I'm pretty beat, I should probably go."
Boyd nodded as they started to walk to the door. "You did well for the first session."
Ryan didn't look entirely convinced but he smiled anyway. "Thanks. I appreciate you helping me. Everyone else thinks it's some huge waste of time with my condition and what not."
"Well, they're wrong," Boyd said firmly and without hesitation. "I'll help you whenever I can."
That earned him another sincere smile. "You're awesome. I don't care what anyone says."
Boyd smiled sidelong at Ryan. "Thank you," he said, truly meaning it. He'd been feeling so down on himself lately that it was nice to hear something good. "And thanks for listening to me about Sin and everything else."
"My pleasure," Ryan said with a grin, putting an arm around Boyd's shoulders. "And if any of these stupid toons have anything to say on our way out, I have ways of getting my revenge. Having access to the entire system is pretty cool."
Boyd's quiet smile inched up as the two of them left the room.
C
hapter 1
9
The sun was hazy and white, a wavering circle with heat felt even through the atmosphere. The clouds were thinner in Morocco; grey as they were the world over, but rescinding slightly from the pure power of the sun. The rays shot through the clouds like moonbeams through smoke and even with the muffled light the shadows quelled at the intensity.
Languages slurred the background noise into one completely indecipherable murmur of humanity. People from many religions and backgrounds walked the streets, chatting and babbling and gesturing with arms ringed in clinking jewelry. Many had their heads covered from the sun's rays, scarves and shawls that shadowed their expressions but did not hide the shining white of their teeth. Market places lined the alleys and streets, little carts and kiosks hastily stacked together with fruits and vegetables for sale right next to sturdy clothing and bottles of purified water. The bustle was almost overwhelming; people yelling prices and questions, the sound of trade and money overtaking the small streets crowded beneath the wide, overpowering sky.
Some buildings crouched against the ground like animals dying from the heat; dull browns and greys huddled beneath the overbearing sun, slowly shedding bricks and dust like sweat that fell to the ground. Foot traffic was heavy, wearing the dirt into paths as smooth as
river stone
where people walked the most. Only half the city had concrete or sidewalks; the rest of the structures had cracked and fallen apart during the chaos of the war.
The city center was the largest part, filled with buildings that were half-restored or brand new. Some loomed high above the wide boulevards, mostly white and designed in a distinct French, colonial style. Windows shone brilliantly, reflecting the glare of the sun into the eyes of unfortunate passersby. More people crowded along the main street than ever, many of them wearing sandals and some even without shoes as they padded along the packed dirt. Condos which had been built mostly in the last decade crowded old fashioned, white washed buildings and the city's poor mingled freely next to the city's wealthy.
Newspaper stalls erupted like weeds along the sides; little boys in ragged shorts and shoes a size too big ran amidst the pedestrians with crumpled papers, holding their hands out for money and shoving the news insistently in everyone's faces. Some of them slipped their hands into the pockets of the passersby, integrating some pick pocketing with their soliciting.
The city was filled with people moving through it like blood through veins. It was upbeat and proud and there was more laughter than there were hollow-eyed people crouched in the dark, watching the world pass by the way their lives passed them. Although the occasional woman screamed that her money purse was stolen and a pickpocket wailed when he was caught, for the most part the city was comfortable, genial, and alive. When people smiled, they meant it, and the heat only added to the atmosphere by making everything seem closer and larger.
Sin shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled idly through the Marche Central of Casablanca. Locals milled around the market stalls, examining meat, vegetables and turtles for soup. The place was almost overwhelmingly crowded and it would have been confusing to navigate for a first time visitor but it wasn't the first time he'd had an assignment in this city. It was one of the few remaining places that had been nearly bypassed by the wave of bombings that had swept the world and many people had rushed to settle there. The New Yorks and Londons of the world had been targeted first during the war and now a decade later, it was cities in Africa, South America, Oceania and Asia that boomed with business and attracted people
worldwide
.
His current target had been one of those people who'd reestablished himself here; a wealthy banker from San Francisco who'd become an even wealthier businessman in Morocco, relocating himself and revamping his child pornography ring to include young, Moroccan boys.
Sin ignored the peddlers in the market and made his way back to Boulevard Mohammad 5, following at a safe distance but not letting the tall blond man escape his range of vision. Peter Brunnell lived about ten minutes outside the main town square in old Casablanca where the white buildings were a little dingier and the streets were a little narrower, but the old aged charm was still
intact
. It was close enough to the city center to remain somewhat clear of the extreme poverty and prostitution that plagued the other parts but far enough to avoid the throngs of tourists.
Sin trailed a block behind Peter, peering at him through dark sunglasses and feeling mildly amused that the man hadn't noticed him yet. He never did a particularly grand job at these undercover fitting-in-with-the-locals missions and he didn't really care. He just wanted to kill the man and get it over with. His assignment wasn't the typical, straightforward assassination. It had so far involved a string of hits in different cities all over the world and at this point he was growing weary of playing tag with his targets.
The purpose of this all was a man named Anderson McCall, a wealthy American who'd been in the clergy before the war but who'd dedicated his life to helping needy people afterward. He was well known nationally as a figure of hope and generosity so he was generally loved by the public. The only problem was that he was a big supporter of Janus and their efforts to overthrow the US government. He would not have been considered more than a mild annoyance if it hadn't been for the fact that 45% of Janus' arms had been purchased with money that he'd donated to them.
A straightforward assassination would turn the man into a martyr so the Agency was using a different tactic this time. For months they'd worked to create ties between McCall and several investors of questionable moral fiber. He thought they were interested in his restoration projects in Louisiana and in reality they were; but the seed of interest had been planted by Agency moles and the lengthy connections between the men would help to bring about McCall's downfall.
A direct connection between McCall and several men involved in drug trafficking and child prostitution rings in third world countries had already been established and already his name was becoming tarnished. In two weeks it would come out that he'd been systematically having these questionable business partners murdered in an effort to clear his name and ensure their silence but after he'd finished the job, guilt overcame him and he'd taken his own life.
It was a lie of course and Sin was the one killing his partners but no one would know that and the man's memory would be blackened forever. It was dirty work and Sin wasn't particularly pleased about having to involve himself in the business but he had to give a nod of credit towards the Agency; they covered every base. They'd managed to access bank accounts, phone records, create ties between McCall and known hitmen… it was disturbing how thorough they were.
His father had taught him how to do his job, taught him how to do the assignment, kill the mark and not question things even when they were obviously questionable. But missions like this got under his skin. He didn't mind straightforward assassinations of political figures and rebel leaders where he knew next to nothing about them. He didn't mind taking out rebels and destroying their bases. He didn't mind killing because it was his purpose.
He did, however, mind playing games and planting evidence, knowing details about a man's life and destroying every part of it. It was usually enough that he was ending it.
His irritation was heightened by the fact that he'd found himself wondering quite often how Boyd would go about a mission like this. He was sure that his partner would have a more clever way of tracking these guys down and planting evidence that didn't involve following them for hours in the humid market while trying to keep a safe distance. The annoyance increased even more when he'd idly wondered whether or not Boyd would like the cities he'd been to, if he'd want to explore them instead of just completing the mission and leaving.
Sin was disgusted with his preoccupation but no matter what he did, it wouldn't go away. He thought obsessively over every word that had been exchanged between he and Boyd on the mission in France and analyzed them over and over. He picked at everything until he shoved all of the assumptions, bitterness, and anger aside and came to terms with the reality of the entire situation.
One thing he couldn't change was the fact that he liked being around Boyd. At first he'd thought perhaps it was some bizarre desperation because Boyd was the first person to show interest in him, but Sin didn't necessarily believe that anymore. If it was as simple as that, he liked to think it would be easier to brush this entire thing off. With that came a close examination over Boyd's response to the remote, and the decision that maybe Sin had jumped the gun in his reaction because of everything else that had been going on at the same time.
The second thing he realized and came to terms with, was that he was sexually attracted to Boyd. This was a major problem. Even if Boyd wasn't being completely false about everything else, he'd shown on two occasions that when it came down to it, he was afraid of Sin. It wasn't something he could be blamed for; most people were afraid of Sin. He was capable of things that no man should have been capable of, and Boyd had witnessed every one of them. I
t wasn't surprising but the rejection still felt like a wound that wouldn't quite heal. He'd never been attracted to anyone before, let alone actually acting on that, and the bitterness wasn't something he'd been prepared to handle. His resolution to that had been, unfortunately, to keep his partner at a distance. It was better that way, regardless. One thing Sin had learned from this entire interaction was that he wasn't cut out for any of it.
He didn't know how to be someone's friend. That had been proven by the brilliant idea of murdering someone as a present. He definitely didn't know how to approach someone as a lover. That had been more than proven by what had happened at the hotel in France. The entire situation had confirmed something he'd known since childhood; something he never should have forgotten or tried to move beyond. He existed solely to be a killer. It was what he was good at, and that was it. Everyone had a role to play in life, and that was his.
It had been obvious from the start, and it was why his father had known that he would make an amazing agent. He'd known that Sin wasn't normal. His weird psychotic episodes, and the events that had happened in China had proved that. Even at the age of eight, he'd distrusted everyone, thinking everyone had the worst of intentions. He'd even felt that way about his father more often than not. It was something that hadn't changed much over time.
For years he'd been alone, he'd trusted no one and he'd liked it that way. He'd lived his life with a single purpose although at times that purpose had grown fuzzy in his mind. There had been times when he'd asked himself why he did the things he did, why he went back to the Agency, why he worked for people who thought of him as no more than a tool.
There had been times in his teenage years when he'd debated leaving, thinking there had to be something more… But the ideas had always faltered and disappeared when he realized that there was nothing else for him.
He didn't know how to interact with people and even if he did, he'd always found humans to be despicable, weak creatures. Something in him hated the idea of being close to others and something else in him shuddered at the idea of letting anyone near him. He'd quelled the ideas and the fluctuations in thought with training, exercise,
self-inflicted
punishment. He'd gone back to being unquestioning and doing what he was told to do, just because he couldn't figure out what he'd rather do instead.
The first real lapse in his training had been over the girl; the pretty, red headed young girl being raped by a group of men. Flashbacks had hit him, then darkness, then the feeling of watching himself from afar. The men died, then the girl ran from him, scared of his violence and his ability to murder, then the scavengers… the scavengers who'd allowed a girl to be raped but who came running to kill her rescuer just so they could loot his body afterwards. It'd ended with more bloodshed than he'd intended to cause.
He'd been thankful for the years he'd spent on the fourth floor after that. He'd used the time to re-evaluate himself. To retrain himself mentally. To rid himself of the weakness that had caused him to feel anything for anyone. To attempt to destroy the part of him with a soft spot for the helpless.
Then Boyd had come along; he wasn't helpless, but somehow he stirred those same feelings in Sin and caused more confusion than he'd felt in his entire life. Suddenly there was a person in his life who didn't treat him like a monster. Someone who inspired curiosity from him. Someone who shared interests and didn't show fear.
Someone who acted like a friend; the first friend he'd ever had. He didn't know why the urge to protect this new, strange being had morphed into something sexual and needy but he wanted the feelings to be gone and it was obvious that it was going to take more than one week of isolation to achieve that.
The shadows grew longer and Sin hid himself in the safety of them, stalking Peter Brunnell as he got closer to his home. The buildings in the residential area of old Casablanca were curvier, rounder and the white washed doors and window frames were splashed with vivid blues and reds. The setting sun shone through the stubborn clouds and caused the pale white walls to look faintly yellow in the dim light. It was picturesque and had an almost haunting, old world quality to it but Sin did not appreciate the scenery at the moment.