It was hard to believe that she'd ever thought him a naive amateur, Misaki thought as she surreptitiously watched her partner unroll a length of black cloth on the bed and examine the shiny, delicate instruments on display.
"Lock picking tools?" she asked softly. It was almost two in the morning; the only light came from the desk lamp in front of her where she'd been cleaning her Glock. Despite the impossibility of observation, Misaki couldn't bring herself to use a normal voice.
Li nodded once, then rolled the cloth up again and placed it inside a small gear bag alongside a length of rope, some zip ties, and a few other pieces of equipment that Misaki hadn't seen clearly.
"I've always wanted to learn how to do that."
He looked up sharply, as if unsure whether or not she was being serious.
She shrugged, and slid the loaded magazine back into place, the scent of gun-cleaning oil heady as usual. "It's a useful skill to have; especially if you lock your keys in your car as often as I do."
Li snorted a laugh, and she smiled. He'd been withdrawn ever since they'd returned from their scouting excursion, and it had been starting to make her a little uncomfortable. She didn't think it was nerves; if anything, he appeared far more steady and confident than he had all weekend. It was almost if he'd taken the cover of Fui even further, slipping into a…darker…personality.
It was a marked change from earlier. Walking down the street, hand in hand, it had actually begun to feel like they were a real couple; and as the afternoon had worn on, Li had become more…genuine, was the best word that she could put to it. In the space of a day she'd gone from having little interest in him beyond a casual acquaintance, to - well, to wishing that this wasn't just an act as part of their assignment.
As she had to keep reminding herself, it was an act. The way his affected charm had turned genuine was just a matter of them growing comfortable with one another; nothing more.
And now that they were back in the hotel, all pretense at charm was gone; he'd become so focused on the upcoming job that she hardly recognized him. Again. The strange thing was, this apparent change felt genuine too.
It wasn't that that bothered her though, really; it was the reminder that she was severely out of her depth and was going to have to rely heavily on someone else's abilities for this mission.
"Do you have the flash drive?" he asked. His voice was just as quiet as hers had been, but she startled anyway.
"Yes." She patted her chest. At his bemused look, she added, "I don't have pockets in these pants, so it's in my sports bra."
There was that adorable blush again; she'd missed it. "Your - uh, that has pockets?" he said.
She bit back a smile. "Of course not."
He coughed and turned away abruptly. "Did you bring gloves?"
She shook her head. "I don't have any, and didn't think to pick any up."
After rooting around in his duffel bag for a moment, Li tossed her a pair of black leather gloves along with a floppy piece of black fabric. Misaki turned it over curiously. "A ski mask?"
"You don't want your face showing up on any security recordings."
"Shit, no - thanks." She set it and the gloves down on the desk, then stood to strap on her shoulder holster. Li watched her with a slight frown on his face. "What is it?" she asked. Standing there, dressed head to toe in form-fitting, well-tailored black, he did not look like the sort of person who would disapprove of firearms. In fact, he looked like the sort of person who would own several.
"Nothing." He hesitated, then added, "I just don't typically like using guns. That's all."
"You won't be using it; I will. And only if absolutely necessary," she pointed out.
"I know. But…"
Misaki took her hair down from its ponytail and began gathering it into a bun on top of her head. "But what?"
His gaze was focused on her hands as they worked through her hair. "It's not good to have the temptation there. In my experience, people with guns have a tendency to stay in situations where they would be better served to run, because they feel like they have enough protection. And they're usually wrong."
"I suppose I can understand that; but at the same time, these are dangerous people - some of them might even be contractors. I'm not letting either of us walk into a situation like that without any protection." She secured the bun with an elastic and then picked up the ski mask, wondering how exactly to put it on.
"I'm your protection."
Misaki turned to Li. His gaze was so intense it sent shivers down her spine. "I know," she said quietly, wondering when that had become true. "And I trust you. But I'm a cop." She gave him a small smile. "Protecting people is my job too."
He folded his arms, the contours of his biceps sharply clear beneath his black shirt. His expression was decidedly unhappy; but he nodded. "Alright. If it makes you feel better."
"It does. But what about you - how are you supposed to protect us without any sort of weapon?"
"By getting us in and out without being detected," he said dryly. "And I have this." He pulled a small, sheathed knife out of his bag and strapped it to his thigh.
It was Misaki's turn to frown. "That?"
"You'd be surprised how much damage even a small knife can do."
"I know. I mean, of course knives are dangerous. But an attacker would have to be right on top of you for it to be of any use." Her words had zero affect on him; he merely shrugged lightly. "But in any case, no one's getting hurt tonight," Misaki continued, more to reassure herself than anything.
"Not unless it's necessary."
His words sent a chill down her spine. Despite his obvious competence, despite the scars on his back that looked like the result of violence, she had trouble imagining him actually hurting anyone; but she'd been wrong about nearly everything else about him so far. "Do we need to come to an agreement on the definition of 'necessary'?"
He looked away. "Of course not."
"Just asking."
He is who he is, Misaki reminded herself, at little wistfully. Whoever that is. Maybe he's interested in you - or maybe he's just shy around women and good at faking charm. But he doesn't need you to save him. He was obviously a professional, which meant that he'd chosen his own path rather than accidentally getting in over his head like she'd initially thought. After this job was over, they would go their separate ways. It would be disappointing, but necessary.
She turned the mask over in her hands until she found the two holes in the front; then she pulled it over the top of her head. Her glasses were in the way; once she removed them, she was able to pull the mask all the way down. Li was watching as she adjusted it to line up the eye holes, but his expression was a blur. She tried to put her glasses back on, and ended up poking herself in the eye. "Damn it," she muttered - or tried to. The mask clung tightly to her skin, making her jaw hurt.
Li rose from his seat on the bed and stepped in front of her. "Hold still," he said. Removing his knife from the sheath on his leg, he pinched the fabric just in front of her ear. She tried not to flinch as he cut it, and held her breath when he did the same on the other side. He then took the glasses from her hand and placed them on her nose, feeding the ends through the new holes.
Misaki blinked in the sudden clarity, aware even without her glasses of just how close he was standing to her, how solid and real he was. She wanted to run her hands down his chest, down his stomach, to feel his hands cupping her face…
"I feel like an idiot," she blurted out.
His mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "Black doesn't suit you."
"It suits you."
"Yeah; it probably does. Are you ready, Lan?"
She took off her glasses to roll the mask up off her face, wearing it like a beanie, and took a deep breath. "Yes. Let's go."
