Author: RikkuRiddle
Title: Moscow
Disclaimer: I neither own Yassen Gregorovich nor Alex Rider (or any other characters from the Alex Rider books). I'm not making any money with this. It's purely for fun. I do however own the characters I introduce throughout the drabbles that I came up with. :)
Rating: I'm confused about ratings and usually I write stuff rated R or NC-17.... so, I'm not really sure. XD
Warnings: male/male, language, some violence
Spoiler: (potentially all AR books)
Author's comment: Heh, took me a bit longer than expected but finally! XD Second chapter! I'll be on vacation starting tomorrow for two weeks. So it'll probably take about three weeks in total (minimum, I'm lazy XD) for the third chapter to be online. Thanks so much for all the lovely comments! ^.^
Important side info: In case anybody of you wondered, Yassen is using no contractions in my stories/universe. There isn't really a special reason for it, except for that when I wrote 'Drowning' I actually thought he really didn't use any in canon either. XD So then I checked just to make sure and realized that he does use them (although not a lot) but decided to keep it the way I had it cause I like it better! XD So, unless it really can't be helped he won't use any contractions (there are a few exceptions now and again cause the phrase would sound awkward/stupid without contractions) but most of the time I'll try to stay true to the "No-contractions-for-Yassen rule." XD
Enjoy! ^^
Facing the short corridor in front of him, Alex took a few tentative steps forward.
The short hallway was illuminated in a subdued red light, coming from small, ornate lamps that were affixed to the wall which was otherwise bare. He could already hear the soft music from inside and the constant hum of quiet conversation.
A heavy maroon-coloured curtain marked the end of the corridor and he pushed it aside, taking a peek into the room beyond. It was vast and filled with expensive looking furniture; small leather sofas obviously designed for only two people and little tables were scattered everywhere. To his left as well as to his right side were two short flights of stairs leading to a lowered seating area.
Little groups of people sat here and there and Alex recognized a few of the men that he'd seen entering the club, brothel… whatever. They were in the company of ladies that did a pretty convincing job of pretending to hang on their clients' lips, giggling every time it seemed appropriate.
The teen chewed on his lower lip. This all looked innocent enough. Instead of a brothel it could also just be some high-class hostess club or something.
Slowly, he entered the room, grateful that here too the light was dimmed, though on second glance, nobody seemed to be paying any attention to him anyway. Alex spotted a bar at the far end and approached it while looking at wide, gold-framed mirrors on the wall that made the whole room appear larger.
There were even chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and he remembered seeing similar ones in pictures of the Moscow metro or the Tsar's palace in their history books. Countless crystals reflected the warm, red glow and cast an array of glittering shards of light.
Suddenly he got the feeling that somebody was approaching him and he threw a glance over his shoulder, only to see a stranger walking straight in his direction. Alex stepped aside and into the shadows of a large plant. He tensed when the man came to a halt just a few metres from him and stared intently, squinting.
Something was off, the teen thought, and then noticed how the stranger swayed slightly. Most likely he was drunk and maybe (hopefully) unable to make Alex out hidden behind the plant.
At that point a female voice called out and the man's head snapped around before he turned away completely and walked over to the other side of the room.
Alex exhaled in relief.
Hastily he made his way to the end of the room and past the bar, behind which he saw a woman maybe in her late twenties arranging the various bottles of alcohol on the shelves. The thick dark carpet muffled his footsteps and he ducked down as the woman turned around; remaining in his crouched position for a moment and pretending to tie his laces, he spotted a staircase to his left, leading up to a second floor.
Making sure that nobody was watching him, the young spy approached it and stared at a small sign at the foot of the stairs, trying to decipher the writing in the scarce light. It was once again in Russian – no surprise there – so the only thing that gave him a clue of what might await upstairs were the small hearts encircling the words.
Alex looked up the stairs dubiously. He hadn't spotted Yassen anywhere down here and he was reasonably confident that he hadn't missed the assassin either. So…
I'm sure as hell not going up there, he thought appalled at himself for even considering that idea for longer than a second. Shaking his head, the teen took in the room behind him. This was a brothel. What in the world was he doing here? God, this was embarrassing.
"I should go," he mumbled because really, what was the chance that the Russian had indeed come to this place for information one of these rich guys here could provide?
On the verge of leaving, Alex paused when he heard an loud exclamation close by and looked around, spotting a wooden swing-door that was almost completely hidden in the shadow of another plant.
Checking his surroundings, he walked over, surprised to see an English 'Do not enter' sign and pushed the door carefully, worried that it might creak and give him away. But it didn't. Before him lay a long, dark corridor and he held his breath as he sneaked in, staying close to the wall as he moved along.
There were two voices now and they grew steadily louder until he reached a corner and halted. Another, shorter hallway lead to the right and the teen saw two figures standing in the middle of it, the light from an open door next to them enough for him to make out that it was Yassen talking to a woman.
Even though they both kept their voices down, it was so quiet in here that he could hear every word…
Only that he couldn't understand them.
Alex groaned inwardly in frustration, tempted to punch the wall.
Russian.
Goddamnit, never again would he agree to a mission (not that he ever did in the first place) in a country with a language he didn't speak. He might as well be deaf. It would amount to the same result.
Daring another short glance around the corner, he took a closer look at the woman who was now talking, her voice rising and falling as she gestured wildly. It must've been her who he'd heard back outside. From the looks of it, she must have been in her fifties. Her hair was done up in a loose bun with several clips and pins adorning it and as far as the teen could tell she wore a load of necklaces; her fingers were covered in rings and her dress was huge with a ridiculous amount of lace and frills.
But despite her… unusual get-up, her demeanour held something authoritative and strong. She seemed to be a self-assured person.
They appeared to be arguing, even though Yassen looked as composed as always but-
Alex gaped as the woman jabbed the Russian in the chest with one ringed finger before she threw her hands up in exasperation and ranted on.
The teen's attention was momentarily diverted when the assassin interrupted her. Leaning back against the wall, he listened to the rough, strangely throaty sounding words that he couldn't understand. He was astounded how different the Russian's voice was when he spoke in his mother tongue. It was a lot deeper, almost rumbling.
He couldn't help the shiver and swallowed, a frown tugging at his brows.
I should go, the young spy thought again. There wasn't anything he could do. Yeah, it sucked that he'd managed to get into the place without being discovered and with a chance of finding out whether Yassen was involved in their mission. Only to then realize that it was all kinds of useless because he didn't understand a single word of the damn language.
Ready to leave, Alex was suddenly startled out of his thoughts by a hand grabbing his bum.
Before he could stop himself, he'd yelped and jumped back in shock, staring at the same man who had ogled him so creepily earlier. The stranger gave him a wide grin and said something in Russian judging from his tone, it was probably something lewd.
The teen heard footsteps behind him and would have loved nothing more than to kick the idiot for blowing his cover. But before he could turn around, the guy advanced on him and reached for his waist.
Alex pushed back furiously. "What the hell?! Get your hands off me!" he exclaimed and stumbled back. He noticed the man looking at something behind him and finally turned around too.
"Екатерина!*" the stranger called out in delight, apparently acquainted with the lady. "Какой красивый мальчик! Откуда он?*" he prattled on, gesturing into the teen's direction.
A second later the pervert grabbed his bottom again!
"Argh! Get the fuck away from me!" Alex shouted and slapped the hand away, face red in humiliation and anger. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Yassen taking a step into his direction and backed away instinctively, half-expecting an assault when the woman intercepted.
Voice high-pitched and booming, she pushed the young spy aside, now standing between him and the stranger as she shrugged and gestured, throwing Alex intrigued glances.
To the teen's growing discomfort it looked as if the two were bargaining and he was tempted to turn around and ask the assassin whether he was about to be sold off or something. But as it was he could already feel Yassen's piercing stare in his back and couldn't scrap up the courage to actually turn to face him.
Before he knew it, the woman was making a sort of shushing gesture as she moved the stranger off to the swing-door, their constant string of unintelligible words subsiding for a moment.
Alex saw the man throwing longing glances over the woman's shoulder back at him and grimaced, disgusted. What had he gotten himself into?
And then the woman came back. Practically waltzing down the hallway, her long dress billowing behind her and for a moment he feared that she was about to run him over. But she stopped, albeit hardly leaving any space between them.
Another thing he'd noticed about Russians. They had absolutely no regard for personal space.
She asked him something and the only thing he could make out was that it had something to do with 'Russian'. Which… didn't help. He thought that she probably wanted to know if he was Russian but since that was a very vague guess, he preferred to keep his mouth shut instead of replying to something that could have meant "Do you want to be sold to Russians?" for all he knew.
"Err…" Awkward.
Frowning, she folded her arms. "Do you speak English?"
"Yes!" Alex exclaimed a little more enthusiastically than he'd meant to. Why had he never before come to appreciate just how good English sounded?
The woman smiled, eyeing him as she said: "Darling, just how did you get in here?! This is no place for children!"
He tensed a little when she started circling him, nodding appreciatively and the urge to throw Yassen a 'God, can't you see I need help!?' look resurfaced. "I, err… that's a long story."
Ignoring his words, the woman nodded again. "Such a pretty boy. Really if I weren't so strict about children, I would hire you on the spot." She stopped and rubbed a manicured finger against her plum lower lip that seemed enlarged by the flaming red lipstick that matched her nail polish. "But maybe I know somebody who would-"
"No need," Yassen interrupted, speaking for the first time since the whole debacle had ensued. "He belongs to me, Katarina."
Alex didn't know if he was blushing because of the woman's inappropriate insinuation or because of the assassin's ambiguous choice of words.
"Oh, really?" Katarina gave Yassen a surprised, and slightly doubtful look.
"Yes, I told him to wait outside."
The teen winced at the stern glare the Russian was throwing him.
"Ah, but of course he had to sneak in!" Laughing boomingly, the woman patted Alex on the back. His cheeks only grew hotter at the unspoken implication; fortunately it was too dark for any of them to see.
"Who can blame him, da? All the beautiful ladies have made you curious, haven't they?"
"Uh…"
Katarina laughed again.
"Alex, wait outside," Yassen ordered.
The teen nodded, secretly grateful that he had a chance to get away, even if that meant letting the Russian order him around.
"Ah, leaving so soon? C'mon, Yassen! The boy needs some fun and my girls will only be too happy to oblige," she interjected with a disappointed tone. "It will be a welcome change for them too. All these boring-"
"I said: he will wait outside," the assassin repeated unwaveringly, his tone leaving no room for any further argument.
Katarina sighed and shrugged. "You are too strict. But oh well, come and see me any time, Alex." She smiled brightly at him.
The young spy tried to smile back but wasn't sure how successful he was. The whole situation was just too awkward and weird. He took the shortest way out of the brothel, half-dreading to bump into that creepy molester again.
The cold outside took him by surprise; it had been incredibly warm in the building and for a short time he'd almost forgotten that, despite it being May already, the temperatures were still rather chilly in Moscow.
He didn't have to wait long for Yassen to appear. In fact, he hadn't even had the time to consider whether he should make a run for it which, in retrospect, might have been a good idea judging by the icy stare the Russian was giving him.
"What are you doing here?"
Alex flinched, about to retort but before he got the chance, he was grabbed by the arm and dragged along. "Hey! Let go!" Trying to yank his arm free, all he managed to achieve was that the grip became painfully tight.
"I went after you when I saw you back where that market is, okay?" Alex conceded eventually, hoping that was enough for the other to, at least, let go of his arm.
The assassin stopped and turned around, seizing the teen by the upper arm. "And why?"
Wow, he swallowed and winced, half intimidated at just how angry Yassen was and half wondering if he shouldn't have expected as much. "What why?"
"Why did you follow me? Why are you in Moscow? Working for MI6 again?" The last question sounded almost derisive as the Russian narrowed his eyes at him.
"I-" Unsure how to react, Alex scowled petulantly. "What's it to you?"
"Do you want me to kill you for following me?"
The teen tensed. "Of course not! What kind of an idiotic question is that?"
Yassen scoffed and finally let go of his arm. "You do not speak Russian-"
"Yeah! Tell me about it. I feel like I'm mentally challenged or something! Everybody here speaks that friggin' language. What the hell is wrong with English?!" Alex couldn't hold back his little outburst at the mention of that-
Russian! Gah, how he hated that bloody language!
And the amused expression on the assassin's face didn't help the matter at all.
"What? Stop laughing!" He pouted and crossed his arms.
"You should not have followed me. I will take you back to the main street." Nodding his head towards the end of the alley, the other obviously expected him to start walking.
Alex gave the Russian a distrustful glare before he took a few hesitant steps ahead, distinctly uncomfortable with having a contract killer at his back but a moment later Yassen caught up with him.
"This is some job you're doing here, right?"
"That is none of your business," replied the Russian brusquely.
"Why does it matter if I still work for MI6?" The teen tried something else, just to get at least some sort of reaction from the other.
"You should have gone back to school when I told you to."
"You're expecting me to do a lot of things that you tell me to do. What makes you think I would?"
Yassen halted again and eyed him closely. "It would have been better for you had you not become involved with MI6 again."
"Oh really, why's that?" Alex crossed his arms challengingly, determined to be stubborn but it was hard to keep that up when the assassin was staring him down the way he was.
"You are being difficult on purpose, Alex. Do you enjoy death that much? Constant fear? Being threatened?"
Swallowing, the young spy bit the inside of his cheek. "Of course I don't," he muttered.
A few dubious looking people passed them and it was the first time he noticed the vile smell that came from the dirty water flowing through the open drainage. Waste was cluttering the ground. Apparently having followed Alex' wary glance, Yassen said: "It is very easy to die here."
"No kidding," admitted the teen uneasily. He really hadn't thought of any of these things when he had run after the Russian. Recklessness was an understatement.
"They don't give me a choice, okay?" Alex said suddenly, feeling the need to justify himself. He didn't want Yassen to think that he was just some stupid kid that thought espionage and working for MI6 was cool and exciting. If anything, he certainly didn't do it for the kicks. "They blackmail me into doing these missions for them because I'm a kid and nobody would suspect anything from me," he went on when the assassin didn't respond.
"I'm like the perfect cover," the teen snorted at the thought and his last talk with Blunt and Mrs. Jones. God, how he hated all of this! "So don't come at me with that attitude of 'boys my age think it's all some awesome action game'. I wouldn't be here if I had a choice." After he'd vented he felt a lot better but that didn't last long.
Yassen was still scrutinizing him intently and it made him uncomfortable to say the least. Why the hell had he talked so much again? He really didn't have to explain himself to the Russian. Especially when all he got in return was a 'none of your business' answer. Or no reply at all for that matter.
"It seems I had a wrong impression of you," Yassen stated unexpectedly.
Alex didn't know what to say and they continued on their way. He could already make out the crowd at the end of the alley. Chewing on his lower lip, the teen glanced at the assassin as a grin slowly crept onto his face. "Are you so pissed because I could be a potential threat to the job you're doing or because I interrupted something in there?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder for emphasize, pointing at the brothel behind them.
One of these days the Russian would shoot him for his remarks, for sure.
Yassen raised an eyebrow. "Well, what do you think?"
Alex blushed slightly at the shockingly blunt reply. Ugh, he should've seen that coming.
"It is curious that you would follow me into such an establishment," continued the Russian obviously noticing the teen's embarrassment.
It was a good thing he had a scarf at the time and he pulled his shoulders up to hide half his face. His cheeks were burning and it was just light enough for Yassen to see it. "Way to put me on the spot," he mumbled, giving the other an offended glare who seemed amused by his discomfort. It was hard to stay mad at the assassin when he almost smiled because it was such a rare thing to see.
"I was about to leave when I thought you were busy with, you know." He made an inarticulate gesture, turning even redder. "The only reason why I followed you was because I thought one of those rich guys might have some information. Just so you know."
Oh, how he hated it when all Yassen did was look at him!
"Could you please say something?" Alex exclaimed despairingly as the silence stretched on.
They had almost reached the market street and it seemed that he wouldn't get any response from the Russian.
"Katarina is an old friend of mine. I went to see her."
Surprised, Alex glanced at him.
"She took care of me when I came to Moscow as a child."
Wishing that he could say something other than 'I see' or 'That's interesting, he found that the assassin's reply had taken him too much by surprise and decided to keep his mouth shut. The last thing he wanted to do was make Yassen regret that he'd told him something personal.
There was a moment of silence before Alex eventually settled for: "So she was kinda like Jack?"
The assassin raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"Oh, you know. Jack took care of me when…" Alex halted for a moment. "When Ian wasn't around and stuff."
"Yes, like that," replied Yassen slowly.
"Jack's crazy, though," Alex grimaced. "I mean, she's great and funny but not very authoritative. Not that I'd want her to be but, you know…And each time she goes out she's swooning about a different guy." He couldn't help a quiet laugh at the thought of Jack. Right now she was probably at home and worried sick about him. He sighed.
"She means a lot to you," the Russian's words weren't a question and the teen nodded.
"Yeah, she's my guardian now."
Their conversation seemed to come to an end at that but so did their way.
They had reached the street Alex had been on earlier, only a little farther down so it wouldn't be quite that far to the hotel.
"Do not follow me again, Alex," Yassen warned in a cold voice, his face closed off and serious again. He wasn't even looking at Alex as his eyes scanned the crow. "Next time you see me, you should pretend you did not and carry on your way."
"Right," the teen replied sceptically. It was strange to be talked to while his presence wasn't even acknowledged. Why was Yassen like that? A minute ago he'd been almost nice; they'd actually had a fairly normal conversation. To some extend anyway.
The Russian turned his head and frowned at him. "I am serious."
"No kidding," Alex scoffed. "What makes you think I hadn't figured as much from the face you're making?"
Yassen's frown deepened, but the young spy shook his head and waved dismissively.
"Forget it. I'll just pretend you don't even exist. But just so you know I can't promise anything."
It was pretty hard to talk over the shouting merchants and arguing shoppers. Flashes of cameras lightened up now and again and some of the things people muttered as they pushed past them were no doubt curses.
They looked just like any of those normal people who were maybe on holiday in Moscow or locals that were here for their weekend groceries. Only that they weren't. In fact, they were anything but normal. Alex saw Yassen turn to leave and reached out to stop him. He got hold of the assassin's sleeve who stopped and looked back over his shoulder at him.
"Have you- Have you ever thought about quitting?"
For a moment, the Russian only looked at him and Alex wasn't sure if he'd heard him over the noise around them. Hell, he wasn't even sure where the question had suddenly come from.
"Yes, I have."
And before the teen could say anything else, Yassen was gone.
The crowd had swallowed him up so quickly, he'd literally vanished in the blink of an eye.
Alex tried to make out the assassin once more but it was no used and hadn't Yassen told him to forget about him just a minute ago? As a matter of fact he'd repeatedly done so before.
Sighing, the young spy shook his head and glanced at his watch.
His eyes widened in shock. "Oh, shit!" He'd totally lost track of the time.
I'm going to be late. I'm going to be so damn late.
Whirling around, Alex set off to wrestle his way through the crowd.
Please let me know what you think! ^^ (criticism too but no insults! whoever is disgusted by slash shouldn't read this anyways)
Russian lines:
Екатерина = literally: Ekaterina but in English the name would be 'Katarina', so that's the way she'll be called when they speak English. ^^
Какой красивый мальчик! Откуда он? = What a handsome boy! Where is he from?
(I hope all this is mostly correct cause my Russian isn't brilliant but I'm working on it XD)