*~*~*
Tony stood there, grinning stupidly, being on the receiving end of a truly amazing smile and suddenly realized that he hadn't said anything yet. Also, it was great opportunity to find out the guy's name.
"Hi," Tony began kind of shyly, but his voice gained strength as he went on. "I'm Tony. Well, Anthony, but please call me Tony or I might not know you are talking to me," he finished with the same stupid grin. But he thought that was okay by the way the guy's smile widened.
The guy took a few steps towards Tony, his hand extended. "Nice to finally meet you, Tony, I'm…" he appeared indecisive as to the name he was going to give, so Tony decided to help him out. What the hell, right? He was going to put his whole future in jeopardy for him, the guy could know Tony’s real name.
"Tony White for the police," Tony whispered and gave a quick silver smile at the frown on the guy's face for Tony's seemingly non sequitur interruption. "Tony Crosse for the people who make me laugh."
Offering the guy a wink to relax him, Tony uncurled, taking the offered hand. He gave it a strong shake.
"Paul Andropov," the guy said with an accent, the syllables rough and spiky.
It took a few seconds for Tony to realize that the he had just offered his name, only he did so sounding like he had to say the words around a mouthful of ice chips. There was no English with its subtle rounding of the sounds, just the unapologetic harsh pronunciation and a pair of pale blue eyes. Then Tony realized the name and the person kind of fit the language. "Whoa."
Tony was surprised when Paul chuckled. "Don't be too impressed," Paul said, "that's the only thing I remember how to say in what should be my native language. Seeing as it's my name, I guess it stuck. It was actually supposed to be Pavel, but since I was born here, Paul it is."
That seemed like a long and painful story. Did Tony really want to push? Maybe gently because he was really curious. He wanted to know everything about Paul. He had a feeling he should tread lightly. "Russian, is it?"
"Yeah." Then Paul paused as if something had just occurred to him. "Wait, you're the guy the Feds want?" he sounded incredulous.
Tony mock-narrowed his eyes, "Do I detect a note of disbelief? Do you doubt that I could cause enough mayhem to get the Feds involved?"
"You detect a note of disbelief that the cops didn't fall on their knees and cried at your drenched kitty look," Paul snorted. "The fact that they actually managed to catch you proves what I've been saying all the time. They're soulless."
Finding himself giving one of his soundless laughs, Tony searchingly looked into Paul’s blue eyes. "You're funny." Great, yes, he sounded like a child.
"Thank you. The recognition I've been waiting for all my life," Paul said, voice thick with sarcasm, but with an 'all in good fun' turn of his lips.
Tony stared at him for a time, just evaluating. "I'm going to get you out of here," he said suddenly, and by the utterly astounded look on Paul's face, unexpectedly. He hurried to explain, but how could he express that he felt indebted to Paul for something that happened years ago? Even if, by some miracle, Paul remembered it. It was too touchy-feely and Tony didn't get the impression that it was the sort of stuff that would fly with Paul.
"Just need to get something with access at the internet, a phone most likely, and we'll be on our way," Tony ended up saying. And, because Paul had reacted favorably to one before, Tony added a beaming grin.
Though still apparently astonished, Paul was clearly accustomed to working under pressure because his hand slipped into his pocket and got out a latest generation smartphone. "Would this work?"
The kind of phone that was completely wasted on people who only used it for messaging, talking and surfing social networking sites. Tony cooed at the little contraption, "Come to papa."
Paul handed the device over with a peculiar expression on his face, somewhere in between amused and wary to not scare the small, yet rabid, animal. "I guess it works," he murmured.
"It does, yes. In fact it's kind of perfect," Tony paused and thought for a second, "too perfect. Are you aware that you're in prison?"
"Yes, I am aware." Paul rubbed his wrist where the cuff left a dent in the skin. Tony lifted an eyebrow in a silent invitation to continue. Paul just shrugged, "I picked it up somewhere. I was expecting to be bored, but I guess this way it's better." He seemed undecided by that, but Tony let it pass, Paul would find out that Tony was serious soon enough. "Anyway, it won't be missed till the morning," Paul said, confident in his assessment.
"Okay," Tony agreed. He quickly got through the laughable security at the city hall to find out the blueprints for the 150
th
precinct where they were currently being held. He looked at Paul, standing by the bed, surprised. "Sit," Tony patted the bed after he turned, his back now to the bars, one leg dangling off the bed while the other was curled underneath him. "Talk. I'd love to know more about Paul Andropov," he tried to keep the same flat but oddly cold pronunciation.
A smile told him he'd gotten it right and that made him grin all the more. In the meantime, keeping his intrusion into the precinct security a secret was demanding a moment of his attention, which he was all too willing to give.
"Aren't you busy with the whole—what are you doing by the way?" Paul asked; he was obviously just keeping himself from reaching over to look at the screen.
Tony smirked and scooted closer so Paul could see what he was doing. "I am fooling the security system from the precinct right now to give me admin access." The urge to show Paul what Tony was up to was strange, since he had never been a guy who appreciated people looking over his shoulder, but the fact that it might help put Paul at ease made all the alarms that would normally be blaring inside Tony’s head suddenly shut up.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, just a moment. Now look at the locks," Tony said and when Paul turned to watch them, Tony disengaged and engaged them rapidly.
"What the…" Paul said admiringly. "So, what are you waiting for?" He studied Tony closely. "You want to have a plan. A whole escape, not just a get out of jail free card."
"Well, yes. I'm not getting you out just so you can come back in with an escape attempt added to your record."
Paul huffed, "That won't even matter in the long run."
Keeping that in mind, Tony added, "To answer your question, no, this does not qualify as being busy. I can talk, no problem, as long as you understand why I sometimes trail off. It's usually to pay attention to some trickier part." He shrugged and smiled calmly. Competently, he hoped.
Paul nodded. Then he looked back at the door and chuckled.
"What's so funny? Share with the class, please," Tony said after glancing at Paul. He was almost rudely handsome.
"The cops said that this was a super cell for mega criminals. It kind of make sense that it has the best security, only that kind of backfires when you have high-tech locks to keep in a hacker," Paul shrugged, amused.
Smirking again, this time proudly, Tony admitted, "Though to be fair, they even took my watch, so reasonably, I wouldn't have had this phone. They clearly hadn't counted on you showing up. Why are you in my cell for super awesome criminals?"
Tony felt, rather than saw, Paul studying again until Paul reached some sort of conclusion, then he moved as if to get up. Tony's attention swerved towards him and he immediately placed a hand on Paul's knee. "Hey, no," Tony said softly. "No judgments and I'm not afraid of you, either… even if I should be. That was just a question. You choose if you want to answer it or not."
"Why are you doing this?"
Tony smiled somewhat bitterly, "I owe you."
He expected the sharply indrawn breath. The words that followed it, however, Tony hadn't. Not for two people in their position.
"You don't owe me anything," Paul declared.
Tony huffed. "Of course I do."
Paul just huddled close and brought a finger to Tony’s chin, making Tony look him in the eye. "You don't."
This was getting annoying. "You have no say in that. None." Tony paused to drive his point home. "I wanted to say this for years and here I have the chance I never thought I'd get." Tony took a deep breath, "Thank you. It meant a lot to me." He smiled gratefully.
"If I had to do it all over again, I'd do the same," came Paul’s quietly dignified answer.
Another soft, quiet laugh escaped Tony. "And that's why I owe you."
Both of Paul's eyebrows lifted. Tony saw he understood. He finally nodded, and seemed to withdraw to his thoughts. Tony let him think in peace, turning back to his phone.
After several minutes he was surprised when he suddenly got a lapful of powerful shoulders and dark hair.
"This okay?" Paul asked, hesitant. And boy, the amount of trust they were displaying by being comfortable with that position was truly astounding.
Sinking a hand in the short black hair, Tony stroked it and made Paul's eyes flutter closed. "Yeah."
"There's no way to explain how I got here without telling you my story, so here it is." Tony continued to stroke Paul's hair with one hand and typing with the other. Paul sighed, seemingly content. Relaxing he went on, "My parents died when I was five. I ended up in an orphanage. For a few years. It isn't any different than any orphan out there, but I can only talk for myself and I hated it there. I can't remember exactly why. I mean, I can guess, but I'll never know for sure.
"Anyway, I had run away for a few months when I met you. I… chose to return and by then the way the things worked changed. Foster parents were all the rage and I was taken in by a foster mom. She was okay. I mean, not so big on the whole parent thing, but she didn't beat on us or starve us and I was always gone," Paul huffed a little chuckle that was absolutely adorable and at the same time broke Tony’s heart.
"Gone?" inquired Tony a bit absent mindedly.
"Yup. On the streets mostly doing odds and ends, but sometimes at the library. Very rarely at school," Paul smiled a bit sheepishly.
Tony gave a teasing smirk. "Not particularly studious in the normative way."
"Nope," Paul popped the 'p' then smiled an extra cute grin. It had a dimple and everything. Tony stopped petting for a second at the sight then started again when Paul gave a grumpy little whine. Thankfully for Tony's heart, which was dissolving at a rapid rate faced with the adorableness that was Paul, he started talking again. "I left the home at about sixteen, got my GED and was unleashed onto the world. Or so I thought. In reality it got really hard there for a while. I didn't have anything, respect, loyalty or money. I had to work for it. Sometimes, it became a matter of survival."
Paul paused. Tony sensed that he needed a little time. He didn't expect, however, for Paul to burst out laughing. Tony shifted his attention from the screen to him, giving him a puzzled look. Paul patted Tony on the chest to calm him, while Paul managed to settle himself and stop snickering.
Still chuckling from time to time, Paul said, "It's just hilarious. I'm not even in prison yet and I'm already spilling my guts to my cellmate. It's all your fault, by the way. I'm blaming you and that pout of yours."
Tony tried to defend himself. "I don't pout." Paul gave him a look. Tony just sighed and rolled his eyes.
"I killed somebody," Paul said, destroying any lasting levity.
Tony was shocked. "I don't think you understand how humor works. Or what you can pair it with."
Paul simply shrugged. "It needed to be said at one point or another. I killed multiple people, all in self defense, but with one I left prints. I was young, scared, and I didn't think I could last the night, especially that I'd live long enough for it to bite me in the ass. And bite me it did. Because he was known as the best of men. Selfless, some called him. Unfortunately, he liked teenage boys and I wasn't the type to just accept that along with his help. Everybody went with it as a price for whatever he had done for us, but I couldn't. I didn't have many things left, but I had this one and I was gonna keep it.
"Maybe it was the wrong thing to do. I don't know, I'm not one for regrets. But I was close to eighteen at time, so they could easily make the case to try me as an adult," Paul inhaled deeply. "The rest is just stuff I did. Stupid stuff, before I caught on with how things work, from a time when I was too hungry and tired to care. Like armed robbery, that's another one that is pretty bad."
Tony huffed, "That was one of the first things I learned—not leaving prints, I mean. Of course, I wasn't trying to survive exactly and I was a lot more paranoid. Once I left home—not for any serious reason, but because we had different views on, well, on just about everything—I was lying low for a while. It was nothing like the fight for survival that you went through, but what I did go through was the extreme fear of persecution. Always thinking that they were out to get me. It taught me how to hide."
Typing a few more things on his phone, Tony paused as it buffered. "You killed people in self defense, you said. Why hide?"
Paul smirked. "Just because I killed people in self defense as an initial reason doesn't mean that the bodies showed that too. Most were sending a message after the fact. With
him
, I panicked."
"You lost me," Tony said confused.
"I stabbed the guy more than a dozen times. I saw it on the news, later," Paul admitted.
Tony whistled. "That's a lot." Then he tilted his head, thinking, "Though I suppose that's what you get for trying to rape someone."
"Especially a street kid. To say that I was like an animal would mean that I somehow changed. I didn't." Paul shook his head, hair rustling where it made contact with Tony's jeans. "I am a little more careful about who I bite, though."
"Don't bite the hand that pets you," Tony said with an exaggerated pat on his hair.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Paul responded with just an edge of seriousness. Enough that Tony could ignore it if he wanted to and Tony was happy for the excuse offered by hitting a firewall. While he continued trying to sneak past the new wall, Paul continued, "Naturally, some past victims tried to shed some light on the guy's character, but by then the media had turned the man into a martyr. They tore the street kids to shreds."