mgowriter's note: This isn't the Uncharted story I've been working on, but it came together quickly and I liked the different perspective.

There's a small Easter egg for those that have read "Never a Dull Moment." :)

Part I

Cliff Avery stepped out of the taxi into the familiar warmth of a fall night in Florida. The afternoon sun peaked through perfectly formed clouds as a slight breeze ruffled the nearest palm trees. If the call from Sully had come a few months earlier, he probably would've passed on the job. Summertime in Florida was a suffocating ordeal.

Avery smiled at the sight of the Mediterranean style house, complete with white pillars that lined the entrance. He never imagined Victor Sullivan to be someone to settle down in one place. After a couple of knocks on the front door, it opened to reveal the man himself.

"Goddammit Cliff, I almost didn't hear you. There's a doorbell for a reason, you know?" Sully said as he gave his friend a warm hug. "How the hell are you, you old thief?"

Avery laughed at the greeting. "Sully. It's been too long."

"What is it, nine, ten years?"

"Ten, I think," said Avery.

"Well I'm glad you've kept in shape. I thought those donuts would do you in for sure."

It was a running joke between them. Avery had a weakness for donuts of any size, shape, and variety. However, like Sully, he was in excellent shape, without any excess on his muscular frame. It was a requirement for the line of work they did.

"You're looking good too, my friend," Avery replied. He took in the entrance of the house. "So this is the domesticated version of Victor Sullivan. I have to say, I never expected to end up in seaside, suburbia when I gave the driver the address."

"Make fun of it all you want, but it beats checking into a new hotel every two weeks. C'mon, give me your bag," Sully motioned to the black duffel bag at Avery's side. "I'll show you around. Where are you drifting in from, these days?"

"Sierra Leone," Avery replied, "but stateside, I'm in Colorado about three months out of the year."

Sully raised an eyebrow. "Diamond market?"

Avery nodded in reply.

"Dangerous business, Cliff."

He shrugged as he followed Sully into the kitchen. "I needed a vacation. You called at just the right time."

. . .

The glass door leading out to the porch and boat dock opened in front of the two men. A young man in his early twenties walked through, his clothes covered in motor grease.

"That's the last time I let you talk me into cleaning the engine," he said to Sully as he wiped the remaining grease off his hands onto a rag.

"Nate," said Sully, "come meet my friend."

Nate extended his mostly-clean hand as he neared. "Hi. Nathan Drake."

"Cliff Avery," said Avery, returning the handshake. He looked at Sully. "New partner?"

Sully and Nate shared a grin. "Partner, yes," Sully replied. "But not so new. Can't seem to get rid of him."

Nate didn't miss a beat. "C'mon, old man, you know I'm the only one that'll put up with you."

"Take a seat," Sully said instead to Avery, ignoring Nate's comment. He motioned to a tall chair next to the center island of the kitchen. "We're having steaks for dinner. You still like yours bloody?"

Avery nodded, accepting a cold beer from Sully. "Still mooing, if you can manage it."

. . .

For as long as Avery had known Sully, he was someone who existed in solitude. The man was acquainted with many different women through the years, but lived with only one. Whether Sully enjoyed it or saw it as a necessity, seclusion was always the preferred way of life. They met purely through luck—two amateurs hired for the same job, which invariably went wrong. With each other's help, they were able to escape unharmed, and a five year partnership resulted.

In the thirty years that he had known the man, Sully had let exactly one person through his carefully guarded gates, with catastrophic results. When Evelyn broke his heart and left for France, it took the man a good two years before he contacted Avery for regular jobs again.

Although Avery considered Sully one of his most trusted friends in the business, they were never as close as they used to be after that. What he was witnessing in front of him was a surprise to say the least.

Sully and Nate cooked dinner with the practiced ease that only came with years of acquaintance. The pair joked and badgered their way through food and drink, always including him but sharing so many inside stories that he soon lost count. He marveled at the change in his old partner. Who the hell was this kid?

"What do you think, Cliff?" Sully's question snapped him out of his thoughts.

"What's that?" he asked.

"You still smoke these?" Sully held up two cigars.

Nate coughed into his beer.

"Kid thinks I should quit," Sully continued. "Something about it being bad for your lungs."

"Victor Sullivan quitting cigars?" said Avery. "Make sure to call me when that happens. I'll have to prepare myself for the end of the world."

Sully laughed. "My thoughts exactly. You should come around more often." He said as he poured two old-fashioned glasses with a good amount of scotch in each. "We could team up against the kid for once."

. . .

The last streaks of violet and pink were settling into the blue horizon when Sully and Avery took their seats on the porch. The water that fed into the Atlantic splashed just thirty feet away.

Avery leaned back in the chair and breathed in the salty ocean air. He took a sip of the scotch, and felt his shoulders relax.

"You've got a good thing here, Sully."

Sully lit his cigar, then tossed the lighter to his friend. "There's nothing stopping you, my friend. Gotta slow down once in a while."

Avery laughed. He lit his own cigar and took a satisfying drag. "Easier said than done." He examined the engraving on the silver lighter before tossing it back to Sully. "Nice light. What is that on there, one of those planes from the twenties?"

Sully smiled down at the lighter before placing it back into his pocket. "Yeah, something like that."

The glass door behind them opened and Nate emerged, dressed in dark jeans and a black shirt.

"I'm going to see the guy about next week," he said to Sully. "Don't wait up."

Sully turned in his chair. A small shadow crossed his face. "Be careful."

"Always am," Nate replied as he slipped back through the door. Avery spotted a concealed pistol tucked underneath his shirt.

Sully's brows were still furrowed as he took a drink from his glass.

"He's doing a meet and greet?" Avery asked, referring to the first contact after accepting a job.

Sully nodded. "Some guy with a crazy collector's fetish for sixteenth century Spanish swords. Willing to pay a hefty price for one currently residing in a museum in Nassau."

"I assume he's also coming along tomorrow?" Avery asked.

"Yeah," Sully replied. "If you don't have any objections."

Avery shrugged. "It's an easy in an out. Franco Pierce has a vacation house on the ocean, and is stupid enough to keep his collectables in his equally extravagant but poorly secured yacht. A perfect two-man job. I'm surprised you'd want to share your split."

Sully looked at him, his eyes puzzled for a moment. Avery realized the thought of the split hadn't even crossed the other man's mind. He leaned forward from the chair.

"The kid goes with you on every job?"

Sully nodded.

"How long have you known him?"

Sully paused for a moment to think, before replying. "Seven years, I guess."

"Jesus," said Avery. "He barely looks like he's old enough to have a beer. How old was he when you first met him?"

"Fifteen," said Sully. "In Cartegena."

"You picked up a fifteen year old kid off the streets in Columbia and taught him how to be a thief?"

"Hey," Sully replied, "If we're passing judgment on life choices, we both know you yourself have a few that are more than questionable. Besides, Katherine Marlowe, remember her?"

Avery nodded.

"She was going to kill him. I couldn't just stand there and let him die."

Avery took another puff of the cigar. "Well, I always knew you'd be the one to go soft first. The kid looks up to you like some kind of celebrity."

"What?"

"You don't see it? Come on, Sully. In the kitchen, you go somewhere and he's one step behind. You say the salad looks good and he has a grin that goes up to his ears. I thought you never wanted kids, but..."

Sully frowned at his words.

"I hope you know what you're doing," said Avery. "For both your sakes."