Under a hazy strip of mellow lights and polished wineglasses, Sasuke hunched against the bar and took another drink of his greyhound. Smoke drifted up from the cigarette twined in his fingers; he took a drag and exhaled heavily, irritated, the corners of his mouth pulling down. Whoever it was that Amon sent, they were ten minutes late. He disliked that the man's message had been so vague.

At least he could see out onto the street from where he sat. Soon, a checker-sided cab stopped in front of the pub.

A woman got out, small, blonde, dressed in black. Her hair was bound back in a loose french twist. He couldn't pin an age on her at all. She could have been anywhere between fifteen and thirty, tiny and narrow enough that he thought a stiff wind might knock her down. From the way she walked, taking cautious strides in conservative heels, he decided she was used to being pursued.

He shifted on the stool and glanced over his shoulder as the door squeaked open. She had to be the "bird" Amon mentioned. Perhaps he was strange for being surprised that it actually was a woman and not a man carrying a caged animal walking up behind him, taking the stool next to his. Sasuke crushed out his cigarette and sat up straight.

"Traffic?" he mumbled. The scent she wore was subtle, expensive – sweet but not floral, exquisitely feminine. Under that though... smoke, the kind off heavy odor that came from the ash of immolated flesh and burning buildings. The moment their eyes met, he felt a resonance with her, consumed by green eyes that flashed with fire and dark knowledge. Sasuke felt his skin prickle, and he had to look away, using his drink as a cover for his unease. Something about her made him want to forget this was business.

"No, the driver was unfamiliar with this area. And he had to make sure we weren't being followed." Her accent was Italian, though she seemed to have a good grasp of English, at least as good as his own. Her voice was pitched low, almost a whisper, and had a soft husky quality to it.

"What's your name?"

"You can call me Eve," she said. He was fairly certain it wasn't her real name. It definitely wasn't the plain, gender-neutral one Nagira had told him. "You've made the arrangements, Mr. -"

"Uchiha. You'll have to wait a few days while they paint and replace the carpet, but yeah. It's a quiet street, rent's paid for a year, and it's furnished." He imagined she had come to this city for reasons similar to his own. He didn't know why, but the name she told him was ringing alarm bells in the back of his head. He dismissed it as his normal paranoia.

"I see," she said and shook her head at the short, mustached bartender as he started to ask her what she would like.

"I have an extra room at my flat you can use until then." He'd keep an eye on her, not liking to consider what Amon might do if something happened to someone he was putting so much effort into hiding. The man was careful and thorough, and very, very dangerous to fuck with. They had a lot in common, but that guy, he probably had the coldest eyes Sasuke had ever seen. That and he could make the earth open up and swallow you.

If Amon hadn't saved his life, hadn't pointed him to Shunji Nagira, Sasuke knew he'd probably be dead. Cut down like a dog by the witch hunters, crushed or burnt or drowned.

Not only did Sasuke want to repay his debt, he was interested in developing his abilities. He wanted to be able to protect himself and when necessary, protect others. He'd already lost enough friends and family to the hunters, and wasn't afraid to admit his desire for revenge burned a little stronger every day. Amon and Nagira had offered him a way to fight back, and he had little choice but to take them up on it.

"My car's parked around the corner," he said, moving to stand up.

He watched as she quickly traced two runes on the counter with her finger, while the bartender's back was turned. They glowed faintly for a moment and disappeared. Raising an eyebrow at Eve, Sasuke didn't say anything but stood and buttoned his coat.

"Misdirection and forgetfulness, nothing more. It will last until someone wipes the counter down for the night," she reassured, as he held the door. He had some experience with runes, but lacking a teacher, much of it was guesswork.

"Provided they remember to do it," Sasuke said dryly, with a smirk on his lips.

She blinked at him, and made the barest slightest chuckle he'd ever heard. It didn't even leave her mouth, but her eyes smiled. Everything she'd done so far was like this, restrained and faint, controlled to the point of suffocation - except that fire in her eyes. Eve reminded him in that way a little of his brother before he'd died.

In silence they walked into the cool March wind, which picked up a little as they turned the corner, blowing black tendrils into his face. Daylight was fading, she'd probably want dinner. He'd call out for delivery, maybe Italian or Thai depending on what she liked.

Near the back of a small poorly-lit parking lot, the keys jingled against his hand as he disarmed and unlocked his black Mustang with the remote; he opened the passenger side for her. The ride was short and quiet. It was Saturday so there weren't a too many other cars. Eve was looking out the window the whole time.

He had a sense that both of them were waiting for a sudden explosion or the clear sky to cloud over and deluge them in a torrent of rain and lightning, for the windshield to crack. None of these things happened though. The only sounds were of the motor and the air rushing softly through the vents. He was used to other people doing the talking for him, so it was almost odd to meet someone as quiet as he was. He was starting to feel the urge to ask questions.

Questions were dangerous. If Amon had wanted to him to know anything more, he would have told him. Eve must have an absurd amount of confidence in Amon's judgment though, that she wasn't asking anything of him yet - a strange man in a strange country. He'd known this woman for less than fifteen minutes and he was already having doubts as to whether he should have replied to that e-mail two weeks ago.

Things were heating up in the underground, and if rumor had it, the SOLOMON organization was poised for a fall. There was one witch who always topped SOLOMON's wanted list, followed only by the witch known as Amon.

Sasuke pulled into the garage that made up most of the first floor of his building, an old but well-maintained Art Deco edifice, and parked in the spot corresponding with the number of the flat he was renting – 215. Her place would be on the fourth floor, once it was ready.

Twisting his mouth, trying to figure out how to word what might be his first and last question, he turned off the engine but didn't get out.

"You're her aren't you?" he said, wanting to curse a blue streak. Damn him. What the hell was that bastard thinking? And how could he have been so stupid not to catch on? Bird. Fuck.

She didn't say anything, but her eyes widened, lips parting slightly.

"You're Robin," he said.