roughcutgem | So let's chat.

Entry tags:

jason au

So let's chat.

Who: Beryl, Danny, Nat?
When: The day after her (failed) kidnapping.
What: A chat with an ex-spook.

She settled in chair, eying the oddly calm man across from her. He was still handcuffed but he wore them well, like they were just a formality and hell who knew they might be for him. They were being civilized in one of the rooms at the Circus, chairs, tables, he even had an untouched burger in a bag. She looked him up and down, trying to get a read on him, but he just came across as...mild. Forgettable. "That's a terrifying skill," she admitted easily as Nat leaned against her back, arms draping over her shoulders. She could feel the half angry, half stressed rumble through his bones and lifted one of his wrists to her lips to nip gently in reassurance.

"A useful one though," Danny noted mildly. "Sadly a born skill not a learned one. You're looking well."

"I shake shit well." Like hell was this guy learning about Khem's healing ability.

"Of course," he nodded easily. "And now you have questions. There isn't much I can tell you you don't already guess though."

She smiled sharply, "then just tell me everything. Better details than assumptions when you're willing to throw bodies at me."

Danny laughed softly, then stopped as he noticed Nat tense, "sorry, wasn't mocking anyone. Where do I start?"

"Who you are, who you work for, and then the details of this 'job'." Beryl was firm on that, tugging Nat's arm gently until he rested his chin on her head.

"And then?"

"And then I think things over." Simple as that.

Danny considered that then nodded, "Alright. I was CIA once upon a time, don't bother looking for records, it's not how my division worked. When I retired I was approached with an offer to work for a private outfit. I didn't like their moral standards and declined, so my girlfriend was killed and my daughter was taken. Every time I complete a mission now I get proof of life." Simple, stark, but utterly honest.

Beryl snorted, passing a pad of paper. "your name, her name, etc."

THAT made him narrow his eyes but he finally complied, "she's seven now. I haven't seen her in person in six years," he admitted quietly. "You can access pictures of her at the address I've listed, I move all proof of life to secondary servers so friends can run facial recognition for me." But more eyes were better. I DO maintain several covers and aliases though, one of which is the reporting job. The article is real, and well written if I do say so myself."

"I don't give a fuck about the article."

"He does," Danny noted easily, glancing at Nat. "But anyway. My 'boss' is someone better than me. He calls himself Maison, he's NOT CIA but he had to have come from a similar global outfit I'm sure. He one damn step ahead every time. And this job is a high ticket one. Retrieve a runaway child, whether she agrees or not. Two million down payment. Thirteen mil on delivery, any condition, injury...preferred," he spat, hating that. He had been slotted to join a GOOD company, one that rescued people from being trafficked, and pulled kids out of cults...

...instead this and he hated it.

Utterly.

"He's not a vamp, my boss. I know that. Fucked if I know anything else about his biology though. I can swing the setback, he won't kill my daughter because I failed, and I made sure to hire people who DESERVED dying for the grab because it was fucked from the start honestly. None of this felt at all right, especially since I had to ID you from cane scars on your back and the aged branding scar," he growled.

Beryl blinked, considering that, "most don't know what they are." Old, faded scars now. Amorphous.

"I got reference pics when they were fresh." Just. Saying. "Your blood relatives are a horror show."

"I'm aware." Very.

He sighed, getting his composure back, "and I imagine your cousin isn't dead like they said." Wishful thinking on their part.

"I don't have a cousin."

"Yeah, he's alive, good on him," he nodded. "They don't want anything to do with him, don't worry."

She tensed at that, seriously considering if they just needed this guy dead but..."we let you live what are your intentions?"

"Well, figuring out this mess with you and yours, they'll hire someone else if we fail," he admitted. "Apparently they...lost their house slave and that means they need a new one."

"Glad she's gone," Beryl sighed. "Auntie had a rough life."

"...yeah." That was a very grim agreement.

Yeah.

"Eat. We're not going to fucking kill you today," she sighed, standing. "I need to discuss things." With Nat. And others maybe.

Danny nodded, poking the hamburger bag finally. "Alright, you know where I'll be."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Nathaniel didn't want to take his eyes off that man, but Beryl was finished and leaving, so he moved effortlessly with her without breaking contact, but still watching...Dan.

Clear of the room, however, his attention was zeroed in on Beryl. He didn't try to speak or break her stride, but he was ready the minute she was.

Dan didn't actually stare him down, he knew better. He just focused on being self contained until the door closed?

Beryl, well, marched down the hall to small donor kitchen and rested her forehead against the freezer door to regain her composure. "Fuck."

Nathaniel lightly laid his cheek against the back of her shoulders, trying not to crowd her but feeling the need to be close. "Beryl?" he asked softly. He wouldn't ask if she was ok...that answer was pretty clear.

She shivered at the word against her back but not in a...terrible way? "...yeah?" She was there. Honest.

"Not...going to be fun." Nope.

He swallowed. "Would it be ok if I hold you?" he asked in a small voice.

Would it? She actually had to think about that honestly. Hell, she hated having to consider! "Yes. Not around my ribs though." Sides, hips...?

He lightly folded his hands over her hips giving just enough pressure for her to feel him there but not enough for her to feel...trapped. His voice was soft and...almost soothing. "What he said was true? That's how you got your scars?"

"...yeah," she admitted quietly. "Branded by the family ring after I cut my braids. They nearly killed me then," she admitted quietly.

Luckily the lesson hadn't stuck.

"Why you hate your braids so much in the Huntgrounds," he noted softly. He let out a slow breath, feeling a bit surprised at what that made him feel. He was...angry. Angry that they'd marked her, and as a punishment. But he didn't say that, even if that thread of anger couldn't be hidden in his voice. "They had no right to do that to you."

"...why," she admitted with a shuddering sigh. "They were a handle. A way to direct and correct me any time they decided I wasn't moving fast enough, or being too much a person." Of course she cut them in defiance.

But she'd been a kid and that wasn't okay. "I know. Wouldn't be here if I didn't believe that."

He lightly kissed the back of her neck. "You said your Auntie? She was the one they were forcing and wanted you to take her place? You think she got away or...no?"

"...no. She never learned how to exist outside. Every time she ran away she came back pregnant and my cousins exist because of that. Boys, so they had value. 'Lani they were proudest of, until he got infected, then he got locked in the basement." And she was still so very angry about that.

So, so angry.

"Auntie stopped fighting ages ago. Her body got frail, she stayed sick longer. She's dead." She knew it.

And now they wanted Beryl.

There was a faint tremor through his body. "I'm sorry about your Auntie, what they did. But I won't let them take you back to that. I won't."

She dropped her arms down to hug his against her hips, "I won't let that happen either. But that price tag...grandfather must have died, grandmother sold a mine." To get that liquid cash. "I'm not sure where to hit them hard enough to make them stop."

He frowned. "Couldn't you get a restraining order? What they want can't be legal."

"It isn't legal babe, at all." That was obvious yes, "but they have the money to make people ignore that, or to try to take me and get the fuck out of the US if they're feeling...uncomfortable here." Waaait.

Ummm.

"Not that I'm rich, or we lived like we were, grandfather was a warlord who took a lot of assets and ran when his leader was killed in a coupe."

Nathaniel's frown deepened. "...seriously?" But he didn't have any illusions when it came to what the legal system would turn a blind eye to. "If we got married would they stop?"

"Seriously. Many a warlord changes their name and becomes a businessman here." Just saying.

Oh. Wait.

What?

"No but forget that shit, are you proposing?!"

He blinked and flushed furiously. "I...well yeah, we pretty much are through the bond already, right? But...it's not important to me if you didn't want to, but if it could help..." His lip quirked into an uncertain smile. "If you wanted, of course I would want to."

Way to utterly derail her Nat! "No idea if it would but fuck yes. Any way you want to be bound to me is amazing." How not?! She never had some wedding dress dream or childhood illusions of a happy family throwing rice but...legal and everything? Hot damn.

"World's going to be be so fucking jealous."

That smile widened until his face practically glowed with it. "Yeah? You really want to?" A small laugh escaped: this wasn't anything near what he'd expected from today. "I don't really care about the world as long as we can be together."

She beamed, full pointed teeth and all, "of course babe. Every way you'll have me I am down for." Utterly. How not?! "NO one else I'd ever want over you." Not how it was suppose to go no, but wasn't it a nice break of warm fuzzies in the middle of bad shit?

"Really means we need to shit them down hard though. So. Less than legal road trip?" she laughed harshly.

He carefully nuzzled under her chin. "If you say that's the only way we're going to stop them, I'll do whatever you want." He paused, willing his own opinion out haltingly. "Can we...I don't know how you want to do...getting married? I know we helped Jason and Khem and all, but...I don't know how to do this. Or how you want to do this? But...can we get the paper before we go? I...want at least that if...if we end up having to deal with cops."

She craned her neck, inviting further nibbling, and sighed softly as she slowly tried to relax against him, "babe, if you wake up Jason and Khem to be our witnesses we can absolutely go to the courthouse today to do that. I'd say Eric but I'm not always sure he's legal anywhere..." she chuckled softly. "We can cover the costs easy, it's just basic paperwork processing fees and shit. We want to change any names? I mean I'm not attached to my last, don't know if you are to yours?"

He rubbed his face enthusiastically along her jawline, giving the tiniest of nibbles. His breath was warm against her ear when he chuckled. "I wouldn't have to wake Jason up: the minute Khem hears she's gonna rip Jason out of bed. Not that he wouldn't be excited, 'cuz I know he will be."

He thought about that for a moment. "It was my mom's name...you don't have to change or anything but I...I want to keep her name."

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