I had to. I wasn't going to start any new series, but I had to. I promise one day I'll get a better update schedule. I also wanted Ana to have a super thicc ass Russian accent, but unfortunately because of other plans I have she can't. But feel free to read her that way anyways.
Snide comments were a second nature to Winston. Whether he liked someone or not, it was common to hear a backhanded compliment or two in almost any conversation he had. John had learned to ignore those comments throughout the years. But after all that had happened in the last few months John felt that he maybe owed Winston a favor (maybe even two) even if he hated to admit that. But he was a man of his word, and when Winston came to him with a favor in mind John agreed. Even though Winston told him this wouldn't be a job he could do on his own. At first he thought Winston was pulling his leg and simply brushed it off. But Wintson wasn't kidding.
"It's in and out Johnathan. And I do mean it. You'll have a ride waiting for you at 2300 hours and if you miss it, I would hate to think of how you'll get yourself out in one piece." John didn't respond. He was sure he would be able to handle whatever it was that was in store for him even without a getaway car. He had managed all of these years anyways.
It was a fairly easy target. Winston had learned there was a small team that a member of the high table (he had yet to learn who; enter John) to put an end to him after word got out that he had lied about John's death and was harboring him in the Continental while John's home was being rebuilt. The team was easily taken care of. So easily that John almost thought it was some sort of trap. One of the men eventually caved and told him they were building files on multiple people who worked under the high table. Just surveillance for now. John found what looked to be the files on a thumbdrive and stashed it in his pocket. He checked his watch. 10:59 Pm. Almost time for his ride.
He ducked out into an alleyway and watched for any sign of who it was that would be picking him up. There was only silence. Was this some sort of joke? A trick on Winston's part? He clenched his jaw in annoyance. But before he could even begin to think of a backup plan, he could hear the faint sound of an engine and the squeal of tires as the car made a turn. It was coming at him fast. As the car grew closer he could also hear that whoever was driving was listening to music and listening to it loudly. He peeked out from the alley was just in time to see his car speeding towards him.
The driver came to a screeching halt in front of John, immediately cutting the metal music they were listening to and rolling down the window. He placed his hand on the butt of the gun that was tucked away in his waistband and ducked down to see who was driving. Oh yeah, he thought, this is Winston pulling my leg.
"Nice to see you again, Jardani." the brunette grinned. While John was sure that he showed no emotion, the giggle she let out let him know she had surprised him.
He silently slid into the passenger's side. "Ana...it's been awhile." Almost seven years to be exact. She was different now, but also somehow the same girl he'd known in what seemed like a lifetime ago. They had both been raised by the same woman. Ana had come to live under the Director's wing at the age of sixteen from a small Siberian village. Already a trained dancer, she had quickly become one of the Director's favorites among the orphans she watched over.
Ana and John met shortly after he returned home from the Marines. He found himself quickly falling for her rebellious attitude and those big blue eyes of her that had gotten her out of trouble more times than he could count. By the age of eighteen she had refused the tattoos that the rest of the members of their tribe, including John, adorned on their backs, had pierced nearly everything she could and dyed her hair black.
"You look like pin cushion!" the Director had yelled upon seeing Ana. "Why would you do this? You think people will pay to see the devil's mistress dancing on the stage?!" this was of course what Ana wanted. John had teased her that she had developed a blood lust since moving to America and learning to become a living weapon. She was no longer interested in ballet and desperately wanted to choose her own path in life rather than what the Director wanted for her.
The piercings were gone now. Her hair was back to it's natural, deep, chocolatey shade of brown and the thick accent she'd once had was nearly gone. He couldn't say her sense of style had changed much though. John gave her a slow once over as she pressed down hard on the gas and took off. She was wearing a halter top that looked almost like it was made of chainmail, a very, very short leather skirt and a pair of thick, black strappy heels. John noted there were specks of what he quickly assumed to be blood across her shoes and feet. Her skin was covered in glitter that reflected off the streetlights as they drove by.
"...What are you wearing?" he asked, irritated with himself that that was the first question he had to ask and the fact that he had caught himself looking at the body glitter covering her legs for a little too long.
"I had a target," she explained with a shrug. "I had some questions and the person that could answer those questions likes to go clubbing. So I had to blend in."
John let out a dry chuckle. "You always did love the theatrics."
Ana smiled over at him. "So did you once upon a time, Baba Yaga." she teased. He frowned at the comment. It was true. In the beginning he hadn't been as discreet as he was now, but he didn't appreciate her reminding him.
He decided to change the subject. "I didn't realize you were back in the country. Or working for Winston." The last he had heard from her she was headed back to Europe. Ana had also dismissed working for the High Table. She had decided to work freelance, deciding when and for who she'd work for. Sometimes her clients happened to be members of the High Table if they paid her enough.
"His business ties in with mine" was all she said.
John turned to her. "And what business would that be?"
"...Personal," John gave her an unimpressed look. Ana rolled her eyes and let out a soft huff. "It's mama."
John frowned, shaking his head. He knew the Director had gotten into some trouble with the High Table for helping him escape New York safely, but as far as he knew she was no longer in trouble. "What about her? Has something happened?"
Ana had never been quite as skilled as John when it came to hiding emotions. It was something that always drove her crazy. He knew everything she was feeling while she could only catch a rare glimpse behind the mask. Even now it was easy to see that whatever business Ana had with the Director, it was deeply affecting her.
"I'm not gonna bother you with it, Jardani. Besides, I can handle it myself. I just figured I would do you a favor while I was in town for old times sake." John decided not to pry. That never worked with her. If she wanted him to know then she would tell him.
"It's John now." was all he said.
Ana chuckled. "Oh that's right, you're American now. You're good at it too. If I didn't know better I'd actually believe you." she cast his a quick glance. "...I can't believe you gave a finger for the High Table." she scoffed, nodding towards his hand. "I thought you were smarter than that."
John looked down at his hand, letting out a slow sigh. "So did I." it felt like the right thing to do at the time. A way to save his own life and the memory of Helen. Now he felt like he had been stupid enough to let himself become a pawn in the High Table's battle for control.
Ana came to another screeching halt and John looked out the window to see that they were outside of the Continental. He opened his door, looking over at Ana before muttering. "You're not driving my car again." and sliding out. Ana laughed, tossing the keys to the valet and following John inside and to the front desk where Charon was waiting for him.
"Glad to see you are in one piece, Mr. Wick. And you as well Ms. Kozlov. I take it things went well?" he asked with a smile. John grabbed the flashdrive from his pocket and slid it across the counter.
"It did. Will you make sure this makes it safely to the manager?" John asked.
"But of course. Shall I have a drink sent up to your room?"
"Please. Thank you Charon, have a good night." John nodded at the concierge, turning and waiting somewhat awkwardly to see what Ana's next move was.
"Miss Kozlov, will you be requiring a room this evening?" Charon asked.
"No, thank you, Charon," she smiled brightly at him before directing it at John. John felt his jaw clench. "I have things handled."
"Very well," Charon said with an amused grin. "I shall see that your things make it to the room. Have a lovely evening."
John rolled his eyes, taking off towards the elevator and hoping his long strides would help him move faster than Ana could follow. But even in her extremely impractical heels, she easily met his pace and followed along beside him silently. She had a pleased look on her face as they rode the elevator, and John didn't want to admit how much it irked him.
He cast a sideways glance at her. "What are you doing?"
"I don't know what you mean. I'm going to my room."
"You don't have a room."
She gave a small shrug. "Well, I shouldn't be in town long. I figured we could share a room. Like old times." Like old times. The words flipped a switch in John's brain and unleashed flashes of memories. The late nights when they would sneak into the theater while everyone was asleep. The week they had run off to Paris for Ana's birthday (that had gotten them up to their necks in trouble, not that they cared). The stolen moments that seemed to fade over the years as John grew more and more busy and the Director tried to tighten her hold on Ana. "Relax John," Ana interrupted his thoughts. "I'm not going to take advantage of you. I'm just here to torment you." she was definitely good at that.
John said nothing. He unlocked the door to his suite and slipped inside, sliding his jacket off. Ana gasped loudly. "What a handsome boy!" she squealed. John turned to see Ana crouched down, her arms open in greeting as his pitbull made his way over to her happily. "Aren't you just the sweetest little thing!" she cooed, leaving red lip prints all over the dog's head as she kissed him. "What's his name?" she asked, looking up at John.
"He doesn't have one." an amused smirk found its way to his lips as he watched the two. John loosened his tie, throwing it aside along with his coat and began unbuttoning his shirt.
Ana scoffed. Her black nails scratched the dog behind his ears. "He has to have a name. Do you honestly think just because you don't name him you won't get attached?" John shot her a look. "You don't have much to worry about. I don't think anyone would be stupid enough to fuck with you now after what happened to the first one."
"You know about that?" he asked.
"Everyone knows about that. And good riddance. Viggo always was a little bastard and his son was pathetic. It's really a shame you didn't make him suffer more." she plopped down on the bed and reached down to unbuckle her shoes.
"That's not-"
"That's not what you're about, I know," she inspected her shoes with a frown. "Damn, I hope I can get the blood out. These are my favorites. Anyways, you're better than I am. I would've cut his dick off and fed it to him. That's probably why I haven't gotten a dog." she set the shoes aside, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. "Mind if I shower?"
John shook his head. "You're sure it's not because you can't stay in one place longer than a month?" he asked. Ana flashed a smile at him over her shoulder as she turned the water on.
"Why John, have you been keeping tabs on me?" that same pleased look she had in the elevator was back. The cat that captured the canary.
"I hear things." was all John said. Ana hummed a 'mmhmm' in response. She pinned her long hair on top of her head before reaching behind her and unclasping her top. John huffed, turning his back to her.
"It's not anything you haven't seen before," he could practically hear her rolling her eyes. The glass door opened and closed. "It's safe for your fragile eyes now." she called just as there was a knock on the door. Ana hummed a song he didn't recognize as he answered. It was room service with their drinks and Ana's luggage. She packed much heavier than he did. There was a black leather suitcase, duffle bag and purse all with a Givenchy label.
John threw a look over his shoulder to the bathroom that was slowly filling with steam. Ana was still in the shower. He made quick work of unzipping the suitcase and duffle quietly. There was nothing of real interest. Clothes. More of her costumes. A small arsenal. No clue as to what it was that she was doing in New York. Her purse was next. He found her wallet. There were multiple IDs and at least $5,000 in American and European bills. Two passports. Tucked inside one was a folded piece of paper. John recognized it as Ana's handwriting.
Dimitri Petrov. Club 26.
That's all that was written. John knew the name. Dimitri was one of the Director's orphans. There was a bit of nasty history there, but the last John had heard of him he had been exiled from the tribe and had gone back to Russia. So what could Ana want with him?
"It's not very polite to snoop." John whirled around to see Ana standing in the doorway wrapped in a towel. The pleased look on her face was now one of slight panic and annoyance.
"What is this?" he asked, holding up the paper.
"...It's my personal business," she crossed her arms. John gave her a stern look. "I think Dima wants to kill mama. For banishing him. He heard that you asked her for safe passage and that the High Table wasn't very pleased. I don't know if they've hired him to kill her or he's on his own, but he owns that club," she nodded to the paper John was holding. "That's where I was before I picked you up. I wanted to see if it was true."
"And I take it it was?"
Ana nodded. "I saw him. But I couldn't...I have things handled. I'm going to protect mama like she protected me. I just need some time." she pushed past John, digging in her bag for fresh clothes. John watched her closely, not looking away this time as she dressed.
"...What happened? With Dimitri? Why did she banish him?" he knew better than to pry with her. It drove her insane. She shared so much of herself with him and he so little. When he tried to get a glimpse at what little she kept to herself she would immediately shut him out. Things hadn't changed.
"I don't wanna talk about it. I want to drink my wine and go to bed." and that was the end of that. There would be no discussion unless Ana wanted it. John nodded and watched her pick up her wine glass and slide into bed.
"...Do you want my help?" he asked. Ana looked at him carefully. He was standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed in his undershirt and boxers. She knew that he would always help her if she asked. That's why she wanted to avoid it. John was deep enough down the rabbit hole already and he was failing to dig himself out. She didn't want to make things worse.
She only smiled softly at him. "Thank you, John. But I've got this. I think I just wanted an excuse to see you again. You need to see a friendly face that isn't trying to kill you...maybe I was hoping to see you naked again too." she joked.
John chuckled. "It won't be that easy." he slid into bed next to her. It was a comfortable feeling, but also strange. He felt a pang of guilt over being in bed with another woman, even if Ana had technically come before Helen. But it was also nice. Familiar.
"We'll see," Ana hummed. "I can be pretty persuasive."
John reached over, turning the light off and sinking down into the bed. "Goodnight, Ana."
He could hear the smile in her voice. "Night, John."