Uncharted: Chloe, Cake, and Lies

Disclaimer: Uncharted and all of its characters etc. belong to their respective owners, I'm just borrowing. No copyright infringement intended!

Author's Note: I wrote this literally forever ago...for Halle, of course. I think as an excuse to put Nate in a suit? Some such thing. Stumbled across it again today and decided to show it the light of day.

(Apparently, my mental image of Nate is a giant dork? Though I don't feel like this is wholly inaccurate.)

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Nate answered the phone on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Hello yourself, Cowboy."

He blinked, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, do you have the right number?" he asked, flopping back down onto the bed. "Because the only woman who calls me that can't possibly have a phone, because she hasn't answered my damn calls in three months!"

"Charming as ever, I see," Chloe chuckled dryly. Nate could practically hear her eyes rolling. "Listen, I've got a job. Can you get to Scotland by tonight?"

"Oh, really?" Nate scoffed. "Is this anything like our last job? I seem to remember Harry Flynn screwing us over. Kinda messy."

There was a sharp intake of breath audible over the line, but Chloe's voice was cool as ever when she spoke. "Not like that, I promise. It's quick, it's easy, and the payoff is massive."

Nate rubbed the back of his neck. It sounded like a dream job; but things were rarely as they seemed with Chloe Frazer. Besides, Elena had been pissed with him for spending so much time traveling lately, and Sully would have a fit if he ditched town this week.

"I don't know," he hedged. "Does it have to be tonight? I've got this thing..."

"There will be cake."

Then again, Nate had never been one to pass up free cake. "Marry me?"

Chloe laughed at him. "Would if I could, mate. Meet me at the pub by that fabulous castle we scouted; you remember the one. Oh, and bring a suit."

"A suit? Wait, Chloe – ?"

"Thanks again, Nate."

"Wait, why do I need – Chloe, don't you hang up on me!"

He spent almost a full minute ranting before it registered that he was talking to dead air. Sighing, he hung up the phone and chucked it into the half-opened suitcase spilling out of his closet. He'd spin up a good story for Elena when he got back. "I guess it's a good thing I didn't unpack, yet."

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Nate entered the pub just as the sun was finished setting behind the castle. Chloe was already there waiting for him, and she looked... Well, breaking and entering certainly wasn't the job that she was dressed for.

"Hot damn," he muttered.

Chloe's eyes widened when she saw him, and she shoved his shoulder. "Nate! I told you to wear a suit!"

"You told me to bring a suit," he corrected, "which I did. You don't look like you're dressed for a job." He looked her over quickly (okay, so he took his time in certain areas) and raised an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes and hit him again. "Have you never done the undercover bit before? Dammit, Nate! Go get dressed before I invite your wife instead. At least she'd act the part!"

"Exactly what part are we acting, again?" Nate asked, looking around as Chloe fussed with his collar and made disapproving sounds. "I might be missing something, but I don't quite understand how formal evening wear fits in with a pub job."

"The castle, Nate." Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. "We are going to do a job inside the bloody castle. There's a very long and boring story that I could tell you about how I got us in, but the party will be over and we'll have missed our chance before I get to the bit about the secret library we'll be perusing."

That got Nate's attention.

"Secret library?" he repeated. "Don't move, I'll be changed in like, a minute!"

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"You could have mentioned that we'd have to schmooze with the high-society when we were on the phone," Nate muttered, taking a large swallow of his champagne and glaring at Chloe. "Might have been nice."

Chloe re-adjusted her long black skirt and sipped her drink with a strained smile. "I said to wear a suit; I thought that even you would be able to fill in the blanks."

"For the last time, you said pack. You did not tell me to get dressed up like a freakin' model!"

"Believe me, if I wanted you to be a model, you'd have much less on."

"If I wasn't very happily married, I'd say the same to you."

"Huh," Chloe threw him a pout. "Sunshine's not even here and she's ruining my fun."

Nate sniffed. "Good, I'm glad she is," he grumbled, folding his arms. "You deserve it after your heartless lies."

"Is this really about the suit?"

"No!" he frowned at her. "You said that there would be cake. I see no cake here. Just champagne which – while delicious – is most certainly. not. cake."

If the lack of cake wasn't such a serious matter, Nate might have laughed at the incredulous expression on her face. "So I lied about the cake. There's still the centuries worth of ancient texts in the library; man up, Cowboy."

She had a point, but Nate wasn't about to admit that to her.

"I may never forgive you for this." And he wouldn't. Well, probably not. Maybe if they discovered something particularly extraordinary. "And you owe me a cake."

"I'll roll over a bakery just for you when we're done here." She rolled her eyes and shoved him in the shoulder. "Come on."

fin.