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Challenge Accepted

"-and then I asked him if he was angry with me, and he said he was, and then we talked about how old he was, which he really didn't like. And he didn't tell me how old he was either. Then we talked about how the League is like the foster family from hell-and then he tried to pick a fight with me but I wouldn't fight with him so he just got madder. He also said he might kill me, and I told him that was pretty normal for my exes. Then I said what you told me to SAY when he eventually decided to dump me, and he went really scary silent and didn't talk to me again until he announced he was delivering me to you and I could be your problem for the rest of the afternoon."

"Good."

Looking for some clarification, especially since Simon did not see how that could be good, the alpha asked him why John was pleased Barsad had dumped him. Wasn't he supposed to want Barsad to want to date him?

In the back of his mind Simon acknowledged that he'd wanted to keep 'dating' Barsad. And not just because he loved the man's beard and the pretty sounds he made. Barsad made him feel as safe as it was possible to feel here. The weight in his stomach when he thought about his adoptive father didn't feel as heavy and painful when Barsad was around to distract him. The fact that it didn't annoy him, how distracting he could sometimes find the beta, said a lot about how much the terrorist was growing on him. And he really shouldn't want a terrorist growing on him. Even he knew that. But it was nice to find someone who at least tried to understand him. Most people got frustrated within minutes and stayed far away unless there was something in it for them that they considered worth the trouble.

He would have lost his previous exes a lot faster if he wasn't so good at making out with them. They'd told him so.

Speaking in a low voice so that Bane couldn't overhear them-Barsad's boss was working out nearby, keeping an eye on them while doing exercise-y things-Blake explained.

"It's good because now it becomes a challenge. He's going to have to prove to you-and me-that he's man enough to handle you. Which he isn't, but the longer he thinks that the better things will be for us."

"I don't get it."

"That's because you don't suffer testosterone poisoning to the same degree as other guys. It's one of your biggest strengths."

John knew a lot more about how to manipulate men then he did, so Simon nodded in agreement and asked if there was anything else he needed to do to further 'poison' Barsad.

"I'll let you know." John assured him. And then a look crossed the other man's face that did not bode well for Simon. "How are you holding up otherwise?"

Of course. Simon hated talking about emotions. Especially his lack of understanding of them.

Being as truthful as he could be, Simon stated that he didn't know.

Which was the absolute truth. He wasn't even sure it had entirely sunk in for him yet, that his adoptive father was dead. He thought it had, but then again...maybe not? The problem was that he'd literally never had a single constant person in his life. People went in and out of his life regularly. Often because they wanted to get as far away from him as possible. The most long-term relationship he'd ever had was-well even that was up to debate. His adoptive father had basically adopted Simon to replace his actual, long dead son. Ergo you could totally argue that their entire relationship had been based on a lie and his 'father' had never really known him. Only he had to because Simon wouldn't have exasperated and worried the old man so much if Hitachi hadn't been so aware of how not Kei Simon actually was.

The more clear-cut answer would be John, Simon mused, and even then, they hadn't known each other that long. They'd only been actual roommates for about a year or so, and while Blake had returned to the home to visit, it wasn't the same thing. So maybe he didn't count either.

Maybe it was truer to say that he'd never, in his entire life, truly had a person that was his to love and ultimately mourn when he lost them. So he didn't know how to do either.

"What are you thinking?"

"I don't know how to mourn or miss someone." He had no memories of being young enough to know that. By the time he was old enough to understand loss and needing someone-well he'd already been passed around like an unwanted shoe enough times to know not to try and get attached.

Being wired weird had actually served him well in that instance. He hadn't known how to connect, so hadn't been damaged when that failed.

John understood emotion a lot more than Simon did, which was probably why John didn't offer him some trite words of comfort or hug him. John just nodded. John understood.

And that did make him feel a little better.

)

Blake didn't spend much of the next couple days plotting how to manipulate either Bane or the man's sidekick. Mostly he spent the time feeling crappy and cranky as fuck. He felt like he was getting sick without actually being sick, complete with achy joints, headaches, mild nausea, and no energy. The only bright side was that the head medical guy in the compound had had him take a pregnancy test, just to be safe, and that had come back negative. So yeah, he wasn't pregnant sick-just new omega sick.

The urge to kill Bane over his visible disappointment at the news had been strong.

Thankfully Blake was well aware that it was unwise to give in to his Dark Side currently. Especially since despite advertisements to the contrary, the Dark Side did not have cookies. Or chocolate. Or anything good he might want to eat.

Man he missed chocolate chip cookies.

But yeah, not a fun two days for him. Or Simon, either, since apparently Barsad was avoiding him like the plague currently. The two shared a room at night still, but Simon sulked over the fact that he was getting the silent treatment. The fact that the alpha wasn't sleeping well, and was grieving on top of that in his unique way, did not help matters either.

Blake would have worried about that more, but when they were getting into the private plane they were taking to wherever the special omega doctor worked Barsad took a cheap MP3 player from his pocket and held it out to Simon, informing him that his music picks were on there. And yeah, part of it was the beta no doubt remembering that Simon did not do well with flying, but still...the look on Barsad's face when Simon had hugged him in thanks had been priceless.

There'd also been the added bonus that the player had come with buds that allowed Blake to listen along with Simon, which distracted them both from the idiots they were surrounded by.

Simon, being Simon, zoned out completely as he got his music fix while Blake listened absently, his mind also wandering to contemplate other things. Like his next course of action.

He didn't know where their first stop was, but given that this doctor was supposed to be the top of his field Blake was going to guess that they were on their way to a first world country. Poorer or more traditional countries wouldn't waste their time and resources researching his designation, or at least not to the degree that it was studied in North America and Europe. He was guessing Europe. And Europe meant American Embassies and people that spoke English. It meant being surrounded by people who would view him as a person, not a Pet. Who would-unless League members were trying to kill them for it-likely be willing to help him and Simon if he could get to them.

The problem would be getting to them.

If it was just himself Blake was sure he could get away, no problem. They all underestimated him so much that it would be hilarious if it wasn't so infuriating. He was literally living for the day he could prove them all wrong and rub their faces in it.

Unfortunately...they were not wrong to think Simon was the key to keeping him in line. And the anchor around his waist, weighing him down.

Escaping successfully with Simon in tow, getting away long enough to stand a chance of freedom...that might be beyond him. And while Blake was pretty sure he wouldn't be too badly punished if he tried to escape the same might not be said for Simon. So yeah...he did not know how he was going to get them out of this one. Or if he'd even have the opportunity to try.

But on the off chance that he might come up with something brilliant Blake occupied himself with some good old-fashioned plotting and planning until his ears perked up over a familiar musical intro. Hell yes. Doubly so since Simon loved this song so much he'd studied it extensively and had learned it phonetically so that he could sing along with it.

This was a 'duet' he wasn't about to miss.

Plus it was amusing as hell to watch Bane, Barsad, and their guards as they reacted to Simon singing ridiculously high as he sang along to 'Diva Plavalaguna' from the movie 'The Fifth Element'. Blake was pretty sure that he'd read somewhere-probably on Wikipedia-that the music had originally been from an Italian opera, so presumably Simon was singing in Italian, but either way...he sounded epic and it was quite the show.

It said something, too, that Bane waited until Simon had stopped singing before he turned his attention to Blake to comment on the fact that the boy spoke Italian.

"He doesn't. He just occasionally sings in it. He loves 'Il Divo' too."

"So he has no idea what he just said?"

"He might have learned the lyrics in English. No idea. You'd have to ask him."

Rather than ask, Bane stated that alphas shouldn't be able to sing so high. Or at least not once they hit puberty.

"Truth. He can beatbox too." And realizing right away who he was talking to, Blake elaborated. "A beatboxer is someone who can make percussion sounds with his mouth. Think acapella. If you know what that is."

Bane aimed a dark look in his direction, dropping the subject.

Barsad, meanwhile, was still looking at Simon like the boy had spontaneously changed into a unicorn.

The thought that led to had Blake snickering like a kid.

"What amuses you?" Bane wanted to know.

"I was just picturing something in my mind." Was his truthful response before Blake turned his head to meet Barsad's gaze. "Did Simon have you put the soundtrack for 'The Last Unicorn' on here?"

"No."

"Pity."

Cause right now Blake was imagining Barsad as Molly from the movie, himself as Smendrick, and Simon with a unicorn horn while Barsad gave Molly's famous 'Where have you been' speech.

It was so epic on so many levels. Blake was genuinely sad he couldn't share it with the rest of them. Though the reference would probably be wasted on everyone but Simon. Sigh.

)

With no way to keep track of time Blake had no idea how long their flight was. He passed out approximately two hours into it, waking up to the sound of Queen. He'd like to meet the person who could sleep through 'We Will Rock You'-and then ask them what the fuck was wrong with them. Well, unless they were deaf, of course. But yeah, anyone who didn't immediately foot stomp and clamp had something wrong with them. Like Bane. Who told them to quit making so much noise.

Blake joined Simon in glaring at him.

"It's Queen." Simon stated flatly, his tone indicating that that should be the end of the argument.

"Members of the League probably don't know who Queen is." Blake pointed out.

"No wonder they make so many bad life choices." Was Simon's opinion on that.

The looks they received from the League had Blake wisely suggesting to Simon that they just quietly listen to the music and let the others remain musically uneducated.

Simon agreed.

So they listened to a lot more music and then finally it was time for them to land, Blake stuck in the middle of the plane without access to a window so he saw nothing until it was time to disembark and he was walking down the stairs that had been rolled over to let them get out.

It was a private airfield by the looks of it, the airstrip encased on all sides by countryside. There looked to be some wooded area off in the distance on two sides, but they'd be sitting ducks trying to get to them. A totally inept sniper could probably pick them off in the time it would take Blake to reach those trees, much less Simon. Not that that was even an option.

The armored limo waiting for them was literally six meters away, and Blake barely had time to glance around before he was herded into the new vehicle. But he'd been outside long enough to note that the weather slash temperature of this country currently lined up with what Blake would expect in Fall, further cementing his theory that they were likely in Western Europe. Outside of that, given the relative time traveled based on the sun, the weather would be notably colder or hotter. Probably. Geography had never been one of his strong suits.

The vehicle also came with tinted windows that didn't allow anyone to see in or out. Shit.

Leaving the music to Simon Blake did his best to concentrate on what he could learn and estimate from his police training. Like the fact that he was pretty sure that they encountered next to no traffic for approximately thirty minutes or so before the car was forced to slow down and compensate for the other vehicles on the road. Another ten minutes and the sounds of traffic and city came through loud and clear.

Hello, heavily populated city, Blake thought with a smile.

Just being back in his element made Blake's spirits rise. He was a city boy, born and bred. Mountain ranges and deserts were not his thing, remotely. No pun intended. He knew how to survive in a city. They were on his turf now, even if it wasn't his country. Things were definitely looking up.

Or at least they were until they arrived at their destination.

Exiting the vehicle Blake found himself in an undergrounded parking garage, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. In fact he was glad to see it since that upped the odds that they were in a populated building and not another compound. He wasn't about to risk civilian lives; he wouldn't allow people to die because they'd tried to help, having no idea what they were up against, but still-crap.

Blake's hopes that they were staying at a hotel or public residence were brutally dashed when one of the goons entered a code to access the elevator. An elevator, Blake soon saw, that was huge and designed to carry a large group of people or equipment. So yeah, wherever they were, odds were the residence was League owned. Crap. He could not catch a break.

They only went up four floors before the doors opened again, the living space they walked into several steps up from the compound at least. It actually looked like normal people lived there. Or could live there, Blake silently corrected as he looked around. There was an air about it that said it was rarely used, for all that it was spotless and without dust.

There were also six heavily armed men waiting for them, standing at attention and prepared to take their orders. Yay. More babysitters.

Fuck.

Deliberately ignoring the men Bane was now conversing with in a language Blake didn't understand, Blake instead concentrated on the rest of his surroundings. The feel and architecture of the room said renovated to Blake. Possibly a former warehouse or industrial building. The ceilings were too high, what windows there were too big to be otherwise. There had probably been more windows, but they'd been expertly bricked over. It was tempting to go over to the nearest window to see what there was to see, but Blake remained where he was at Bane's side. Yes, Bane had to know that Blake would be looking for escape routes, but there was no need to point it out that strongly. There'd be chances to gather intel. Eventually. He couldn't rush it.

Odds were he'd only get one shot, if that. And possibly literally shot, for that matter.

"Come with me." Bane commanded, giving Blake's arm a light squeeze for emphasis.

Nodding, Blake did as bided. For now.

They left the open living room type area and entered a hallway that had three doors on the left, four on the right. Plain beige walls. The doors were all closed, what lay behind them unknown as Bane opened the third door on the right and then motioned for Blake to go in.

"Aren't you going to check it out thoroughly before I step in? Just in case there's a trap."

He was mostly being sarcastic, but this was a League building and therefore Talia probably had access to it.

"The men here were hand chosen by me. You will be safe here."

"Famous last words." Blake muttered, deliberately loud enough for Bane to hear as he crossed the threshold.