The Heart Of Morocco Part One

by Basicblack

Emerging from a particularly satisfying bath Florian's contented glow was rudely doused upon his discovery that Noir was awaiting him in his room. Pulling his robe self-consciously closer about himself he glared with justified outrage at the man lounging on his bed. Noir greeted him without so much as glancing up from a large piece of paper spread before him.

"What were you doing in there?" Florian blinked, further taken aback by the question. When he didn't answer immediately the emerald gaze of his companion swept up to regard him, the dark brows arching inquisitively.

"I - hardly think it's any business of yours." He finally managed in response. Noir grunted at this and returned his attention to the paper.

"It is when it seems increasingly likely you've fallen asleep and drowned."

"I was just enjoying my bath." Florian crossed the room to his wardrobe and tugged the door open, wondering at what point he would actually be able to dress in private. His accusatory tone seemed to have travelled entirely over Noir's head.

"I was contemplating coming to check on you." The brunet murmured in an utterly deadpan tone. Briefly he met Florian's offended glare seriously before laughing. "Don't you want to know what this is? I thought you'd find it interesting." Florian conceded to closing the wardrobe door again and stalking across to take a closer look, but he didn't intend to let this intrusion go just yet. He stared blankly down at what appeared to be the floor plans of a large house and folded his arms, shaking damp strands of hair back from his eyes.

"Well," he prompted after a moment's silence during which smugness emanated almost tangibly from Noir, "what am I looking at?" Noir seemed disappointed he didn't recognise it, but he was only momentarily deflated, recovering his composure quickly.

"It's the plans of the Martin household. Perhaps you remember them since you used to live in their vicinity, if I'm not mistaken…" Florian's shocked expression was ample recompense for the initial letdown. Clearly he had just caught up with the implications of what he was seeing. Pity it had taken so long.

"Oh no, you can't - " Noir's grin thoroughly suggested he could. "You can't be planning to steal something from them?" Noir chuckled to himself, gathering up the plans and rising to his feet beside his shorter companion. "I know them, Noir. They were good friends to my family, and we didn't have many…"

"Then don't worry your pretty head about it, your role will be fairly minimal anyway. I just thought you might be interested." He shrugged casually and started to leave, stopped abruptly when Florian caught his sleeve in a firm grasp.

"I mean it, Noir. What can the Martins have that interests you so much, anyway?"

"So you do want to know." Florian turned frustratedly away from the self-assured smile and emitted a sigh. Noir made a careful show of laying the plans out on his bed once more, then beckoned him over. "C'mon, you might as well know what's going on at least. The Martin's youngest son, François, is returning today from a lengthy stay abroad - "

"I remember him," Florian murmured. "We played together sometimes when we were very young. Carry on."

"Mm, well he brought something with him. Something," as he continued he drew a ragged piece of newspaper from a pocket in his dark suit, "that would have been better left where it was. You and I both know that some people don't have the sense they were born with when it comes to the acquisition of wealth though, don't we? He didn't even steal it himself, I'll wager. Probably bought it from thieves who were happy to get rid of it for a good price." He offered the cutting to Florian who refused to acknowledge his comment.

"The Heart Of - " he began reading, then his amethyst gaze darted sharply up to Noir. "The Heart of Morocco? Is that what this is about; someone stole some famed ruby from your homeland and you feel duty-bound to retrieve it and add it to your own collection? Your sense of justice is warped."

"Read on." Noir prompted evenly, blithely ignoring the criticism.

"It belonged to some royal family… long and impressive lineage. It was passed down through the generations, through the ages, all right - tell me what's so special about it?"

"Moroccan royalty aren't going to let their treasure go so easily. They're already onto him, and it wouldn't surprise me if they close in on this very address within the next week. François is an aristocrat, and it seems to me that most of them don't make very good thieves." He glanced at Florian with amusement. "You're inherently bad liars and cheats."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing." Florian sighed in response. "Fine, so you think they're onto him. I take it you intend to steal it from him before they arrive."

"More or less, more or less." Noir nodded, looking again at the plans. "It'll be doing him a favour in the longrun, believe me. And you, Florian, are going to help me. I'm glad you at least listened to some of the explanation, I'd hate you to go into something with no idea why you were there."

"What! If you think I'm going to help you steal from the Martins you're wrong. I don't care one bit for your explanation - two wrongs don't make a right."

"Very cute," Noir grumbled, extracting a cigar from another pocket and lighting it. "You don't need reminding again that you're my property, do you? Really, Florian, it's getting to be an absolute bore."

"Do what you want with me - whatever - but don't forget that you can't force me to do anything."

"Whatever I want?" Noir checked, stalking closer to him wearing an unnervingly predatory expression. Florian stood his ground.

"I won't sink to your level. I'm not a thief."

"No, you're the possession of a thief, and legally come by at that. It's almost ironic." Unclamping the cigar from his lips he smiled. "I suppose it's possible I could adapt your role to something a little less active, in exchange for other payment from you, of course."

"Leave me alone." Florian snarled with ferocity that was still surprising coming from something that appeared so gentle. "You idiot. If this is some scheme to make a point about our business relationship I don't need it."

"This has nothing to do with business." Noir assured him, laying his free hand on Florian's shoulder and closing what distance remained between them. Knowing what might well come next Florian prudently darted out of his grasp, tugging his robe angrily about himself once more as it had begun slipping open.

"Get out. At least have the decency to let me get dressed before we argue." Noir's smile remained in place, though it had attained a slightly wistful edge.

"Get dressed then, and we'll discuss this further." Snatching up the plans once more he left with no further comment, without even making eye-contact. Florian was faintly surprised at such an apparently easy victory but quickly resolved not to look a gifthorse in the mouth. Closing the door behind his unwelcome visitor he paused a moment in thought before going back to the wardrobe. No matter what happened he wasn't going to be used so shamelessly in some game of Noir's. Not this time.

When he finally emerged from his room he was still in no mood to talk. He had gone over what Noir had said enough times to build up a good amount of indignation, and he strode straight for the front door. His intention could hardly be mistaken since he was dressed for the outdoors, but still, as his keeper slid with uncanny speed between him and the exit, Noir asked him quietly where he thought he was going.

"I'm going for a walk." He announced fiercely. "I need some air."

"There's plenty of air in here." Noir pointed out calmly in the face of Florian's familiar temper.

"You can't keep me prisoner."

"If you and I were to actually fight over it," Noir began musingly, "do you think you would win?"

"Do you intend to beat me unconscious again?" The again was decidedly pointed, and Noir was forced to concede he had a point. Short of tying him up - something he admittedly considered frequently though he rarely implemented it - there wasn't much he could do to keep the man where he wanted him. It was most irritating - he was making something out of nothing, and Noir had anticipated this whole affair being infinitely more amusing.

"Go." He stepped aside with a sarcastic flourish. "Just be back before dark." Heavens, I sound like his mother, he added mentally.

In less than half an hour the summer evening skies had darkened prematurely with heavy cloud cover, and rain began to pour steadily from the heavens. Still Florian did not return, and Noir's anger and disappointment at the way his latest scheme had been received was reluctantly put aside by concern. Let him catch a cold, he'd deserve it. And I won't be looking after him if he does. He can lie in bed and suffer. He can lie in a gutter and suffer for all I care. Somehow he couldn't quite convince himself he was genuine in this sentiment. Perhaps he had picked the wrong manner in which to spring his plans on Florian. In restrospect he should have known this was just the sort of thing that would call the youth's battered pride out in force. He could be so unpredictable.

"Isn't he back yet?" Glancing up Noir found a dark pair of eyes fixed on him from the doorway. Laila hovered there momentarily, as if unsure of her welcome, before coming in.

"He went for a walk, apparently." Noir replied, surprised by the bitterness in his own voice. "He must be drenched by now and he's so stubborn he probably still won't come back for as long as possible, just to spite me."

"Did he not take well to your scheme to 'liberate' the ruby?"

"No he did not. He wouldn't even listen - " Noir hesitated, sniffing the air, his nose wrinkling in distaste. "What is that awful smell!" Laila's beautiful eyes widened suddenly and she span about, fleeing the room far faster than she had entered it.

"The food's burning! I forgot all about it!" She called over her shoulder as she went. Noir smiled after her.

"That'll teach you to spy on me," he murmured. Hopefully this would also mean he wouldn't be called upon to sample any. On the tail of this happy thought he heard a key in the lock of the front door and extremely hurriedly set about positioning himself upon the couch with a book held loosely between his fingers. His attempt at casual disinterest was thwarted when Florian made as if to walk straight past him and up to his room. "Get back here." He growled, setting the book aside, relieved it had at least been the right way up.

Florian was indeed well-soaked. His golden hair was dark with water and dripping copiously over the carpet, and his clothes were saturated despite the coat he had hung up at the door. His eyes were less defiant now - there was, if anything, an air of resignation about him.

"You needn't have spent so long in the bath if you were going to get drenched like that." Noir grumbled at him, steering him away from the seat he had been about to sit on and soak. "Drip over things in your own room. Come on." Florian proceeded obediently to his room, but when they got there instead of making a move to change out of the wet things he dropped onto the bed. Noir eyed him askance. "I'll get some brandy to warm you up. Why don't you get changed while I'm gone..?"

But he wasn't changed by the time his friend returned, and the way he set about the brandy was alarming to see.

"I didn't mean to - upset you." Noir tried awkwardly when half the glass had already disappeared down the delicate throat. Then he felt he was sounding too soft and added, "You're going to do what I tell you to though." Florian seemed not to hear him.

"I've been thinking." He began in a weary, emotionless voice. "I don't have anything to give you in payment anymore. I can help you occasionally with your - new business acquisitions, but really you just have to feed and clothe me and I have nothing to give back to you. Sometimes you joke about other ways I can repay my debt but…" He had finished the entire glass of brandy, and Noir might have begrudged anyone else such a fine glass of alcohol when they showed so little appreciation. Just now he was too surprised by what had just been said to even much register it.

"You're doing fine." He replied darkly. "Leave it to me to worry about, and what brought on this line of reasoning anyway?"

"Everything's been taken from me." Florian continued faintly. "I have nothing of value to my name anymore. I'm nothing of value."

"What the - ?" Noir came to rest on the bed beside him.

"Forget it," Florian turned his gaze away to the carpet. "I've been thinking about it for a while. It's probably just self-pity. I should sleep." Noir took him by the shoulders, obliging him to turn around and face him.

"You are of great value. If you weren't I wouldn't keep you here, you know I'm not one for charity." Florian submitted silently to being drawn against him, and he laid an arm across the youth's damp back. "And you know, there are some things people can't just take away from you. Not if you don't let them." He suspected he knew why they were having this conversation, and he wished to God they weren't. When his mistakes hurt those he was supposed to care for he found it hard to forgive himself; he could have done without reminders. "So pull yourself together." He concluded, holding Florian off awkwardly and noting his own clothes were now soggy. "I told you already I need your help with this one. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

He headed hastily for the door, turning briefly to add, "And don't sleep in those wet clothes." Florian's self-conscious smile reassured him.

"I'm fine, really. I'll get changed." There was a pause, and Noir was in the hall before Florian murmured "thank you." He hesitated, then decided this was acknowledgement enough and continued on his way.

"Tell me then." Florian began reluctantly after breakfast the following morning, amazed as ever that his companion could enjoy his food when it was eaten around cigars. He hadn't eaten much himself because he was feeling a little queasy after drinking so much. He had berated himself a hundred times over for his stupid behaviour the night before. There were some things he needed to keep to himself.

Noir glanced up at him over the morning paper with a vague, "hm?" For a moment Florian thought he was going to pretend irritatingly that he had no idea what he was alluding to, but after a moment it became clear he had in fact been quite intent upon the article he was reading. "Ah, you want to know what you have to do?" He began after a moment, folding the paper carefully and setting it aside. On the tail of the last cigar he lit a fresh one and sat back in a cloud of smoke, his face lit with a self-satisfied smirk. "Good. You'll be acting in the familiar capacity of 'distraction'. You're so good at getting people's attention."

"At least I don't crave it, unlike some people - " Florian muttered with a trace of bitterness, glaring at the crumbs on his plate. Noir watched him with polite expectancy, ignoring the comment. "Won't it look suspicious if I turn up out of the blue and while I'm there this stupid jewel disappears?"

"Quite on the contrary, you'll have the perfect alibi because you will be in their sight the whole time. I, on the other hand, have no interest in meeting old friends of yours. In fact I'll have been decidedly irritated you decided to go and visit them in the first place." Florian blinked uncomprehendingly. "That's what you'll tell anyone who asks, and if they don't then don't volunteer any information. I shall be at home in the company of Laila and the others, perhaps having a quiet drink and reading a book by the fire."

"And you'll actually be breaking into their house and - " Noir held up a casual hand to silence him.

"You don't need to know about that part. All you have to do is sit and talk to them in their reception room, which is most conveniently located I must inform you, until around ten. Then you shall take your leave and travel back here via a certain route, picking up a small parcel on the way that I shall leave for you." The fair brows organised themselves into a frown and Noir smiled more broadly. "So you see your role is really very simple."

"Firstly," Florian began in a slow, deliberate tone, "what use will the ruby be to you if it's so highly sought-after? You won't be able to sell it, or flaunt it." He suspected he already knew the answer to that one, and Noir's grin was veritably screaming because it will be fun! "Secondly, why don't you just bring it straight back here? Why risk leaving it somewhere only to have me pick it up?" Noir leaned forward in his chair, removing the cigar from his mouth and looking suddenly intense. "And thirdly," Florian continued doggedly, "how did you find out François stole it in the first place?"

"The Heart of Morocco - that 'stupid jewel' - was a legend where I grew up. We - " he hesitated for an almost indecipherable moment - the 'we' referred largely to Azura and himself, "often thought about stealing it ourselves. On one occasion we even came pretty close to it, but in the end it was too risky. Yes, too risky even for me. I know my limits." Florian still appeared unmoved, and Noir wondered what was going on behind the inscrutable lilac gaze. "Perhaps it is nothing more than a childish desire to possess something that was once a glittering prize I wanted more than anything else. If that's all it is I find myself not caring, because it's here, in Paris, and within my reach. I refuse to let it slip through my fingers a second time."

Settling back in his chair once more Noir's gaze fled briefly sideways as he reminisced, then flickered back to Florian as he continued. "As for the parcel I want you to collect I at no point said the ruby would be in it. I merely want you to get it and bring it with you on your return trip." Something of his previous smile was returning, but it was only its shadow. "Ah, and I have my informants. There are folk dotted all over the world who feed me information I may be interested in, and more often than not I sift through it and find nothing of great moment. Occasionally though - " he paused, his gaze distant, "something like this turns up."

"I'll do it, but I don't like it." Florian concluded grudgingly.

"You don't have to." Noir replied airly, rising from the table and nodding to a servant who was hovering at a discrete distance, waiting to tidy up. "I've given you the bare minimum of information since you don't want to be involved with it. All you have to do is go and talk to your old friend - see how he is. Tell him you heard yesterday he'd just returned to the country. It's perfectly true."

Florian remained sitting as the breakfast things were removed, his expression unusually sober. When Noir conceded to actually looking at him - and he didn't want to, because he didn't want to be told this was a stupid idea, or made to feel guilty - he found the amethyst eyes imploring. Florian stood unhurriedly and moved closer to him without breaking eye contact. When he spoke it was in a low, confidential murmur. "There's another reason you aren't telling me everything, isn't there?"

"Only so you can't reveal my entire plan to the authorities should the opportunity arise." Noir bit back crossly.

"If you don't trust me you shouldn't involve me at all." Florian pointed out, his voice strained and barely even.

"Go upstairs and amuse yourself until lunch." Noir dismissed him, turning his frown away and striding towards the door. "After that I'll tell you which route you need to take this evening and you can get changed and leave." What exactly was Florian's problem anyway? He wondered this as he removed himself to his study and shut himself in, going over the sum total of his companion's reactions to this plan and finding every one of them unsatisfactory. Probably a combination of it being an old family friend, and, it occurred to him of a sudden, Morocco. Perhaps he had not moved on so far from his experiences there that he could recall the place to mind without stirring unpleasant memories.

This should have occurred to him sooner. It should have occurred to him after the previous night's outburst, but now it was too late to do anything about it. Florian was going to have to perform his role like a grown-up and stop letting things get to him so much. Despite this resolution Noir still found it infuriatingly difficult to focus on the random book he picked up, and eventually he threw it aside and brooded away the time remaining until lunchtime.

He ensured lunch was the second meal of the day they took alone rather than with any of the others. Laila had acceded to his wish with the cheerful declaration that it would give her the chance to prepare something personally for herself and Noel, though as soon as his back was turned her face fell as she headed into the kitchen. Noel was actually relieved he didn't have to eat with Florian because he had found his usually happy playmate and guardian taciturn and unwilling to do anything that morning. He was glad of Laila's company instead, though a little apprehensive about what he might end up being served for lunch.

After Noir and Florian had eaten in a stony silence broken only by the occasional request that one pass something to the other they retired to the study. Noir explained several times, and in several different ways, the route Florian was to take to and from the Martin estate. He employed maps of the area, then little ones he scrawled himself on scraps of paper. He was just reiterating the landmarks his directionally-challenged friend should note at various points when he realised Florian was no longer listening.

"Hey," he clicked his fingers sharply in front of his companion's face. "I'm not talking because I enjoy the sound of my own voice. If you go the wrong way you might miss the package, or worse get entirely lost. You lost on a Paris street by night could mean only one thing, and that's trouble." Florian was frowning indignantly, but somehow he had no words to disagree with. "This way," Noir pointed at the most recently drawn map, "is relatively safe. It's also relatively short. You should be fine. Are you confident you can find your way?"

"I'll find it." Florian decided firmly, half trying to convince himself. "Noir… will you tell me what's going to be in this parcel?"

"It's better if you don't know. If you think you're being followed, obviously don't try and pick it up. Just get back here." He paused, looking displeased by this arrangement. "Try not to be followed. Oh, and - should the parcel already have gone… well, don't worry about that either."

"Already be… what do you mean? Is somebody else likely to take it?" Noir shrugged. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just trying to prepare you for all eventualities. Hopefully it will be there. Now, are you absolutely sure you know the way?" Florian levelled a particularly withering glance at him, and for the first time Noir began to feel reassured that everything would go according to his plan, at least at their end…

End of Chapter One