This is my first ever attempt at a Hitman story. As I have been a fan of this video game series for years, coupled with the semi recent release of Hitman III. I wanted to give it a shot. Warning! This is an mpreg. Rights and material belong to IO Interactive and Square Enix. Thank you for reading. Enjoy!
He and Dianna's relationship had been strictly professional since day 1. She was his handler, he, a cold-blooded assassin. However, that wasn't to say he never allowed himself to feel emotion. There were moments their alliance proved volatile. Both sides facing near death, somehow. They were able to put their past indiscretions behind them.
The Providence may have been dismantled. However, its leader, Arthur Edwards, aka The Constant, proved to be a bit more of a challenge. The ICA had practically exhausted all its resources, but Agent 47 wasn't one to be dissuaded. Sooner or later, he would have to come out of the shadows. The deterioration of his clandestine organization would make sure of that.
The clean shaven, iconic barcode tattooed killer, spared a glance across the magnificent suite. His entire existence, he knew nothing but a life of killing. A clone perfectly constructed for execution, but this, this was different. He would even go so far as to say he may possibly be falling for her. She lied across the vast expanse of the king-sized bed.
Dressed in nothing but a babydoll nightie and lace panties. He had to admit, it took some getting used to. She was always so professional, never one to let personal life conflict with her professional one. But that night, she let her guard down, dare he say there was even a faint hint of a smile. This was entirely new, and albeit, rather daunting territory he was stepping into. That assignment, that one goddamned assignment he still regrets taking, all these years later. The one resulting in her parents deaths. He turns to fully face her, pushing the tragic event to the furthest regions of his brain.
"Well?..are you joining me, 47?"
She gave a somewhat mischievous smirk. He returned a small smile. Casting his brilliant red tie to the floor.
"And you're sure about this?"
His voice finally broke. Just the mere act of speaking was enough to send shivers down one's spine. So powerful, and yet, she knew deep down, there was that side of compassion. Hearing the airy chuckles under her breath as she slipped a strand of auburn brown hair behind her ear.
"We've worked together for more than two decades. Yes..I'm quite sure"
This sent a pang straight to his heart. If only she knew the truth about her parents, she would surely retract her offer. The assassin shakes his head, briefly and abrupt. Little good attempting to vanquish the case did. Like a mosquito bite, irritating and flaring up out of nowhere. He finds his smile is a bit wider this time. In a matter of moments, shedding his classic black suit with white dress shirt. Even finding it somewhere to softly laugh.
"Not too loud, Miss Burnwood. Next thing you know- ICA will be adding escort service to my otherwise..spotless repertoire"
An entire month had passed since their brief, intimate evening. Their handler/assassin relationship resumed as usual. His icy blue eyes track the movements of their next target. A direct link to The Constant, blending into the crowds of Nhyavn in Copenhagen, Denmark. Feeling the coldness of the fiber wire between his fingers.
"Do you still have eyes on him, 47?"
Dianna inquired rather anxiously through his ear piece. He exhales sharply, taking cover behind a stone pillar. For once, it seemed luck was on their side. As his target decided to stop at a street vendor for coffee. All the assassin had to do was distract the merchant, assume their identity, momentarily, before poisoning his paper cup.
"Affirmative. He's stopped at a nearby vendor. I just need to find a way to inful-"
Suddenly, the stealthy killer drifted off. An inexplicable wave of nausea had a vice-grip on him. Trying everything in his power to ignore it, the bile acidic and burning as it clawed its way up his throat. He slams his eyes shut, hot tears stinging them. The esteemed assassin leaned against the harsh cold stone for support. Hoping the wave was fleeting.
However, this is where their luck would soon end. Emptying the contents of his stomach onto the once, immaculate stone path. It only took seconds to try and compose himself, slowly lifting his head to see the devastating sight before him. His target disappeared. He could the pure disgust in her voice. This couldn't be happening.
"Goddammit! He's gone. 47, what the Hell is going on?!"
The skilled headhunter's breathing eventually reverting back to normal. He wipes at the stray vomit with the back of his hand, a sinking in his heart. He sighs deeply. Responding in an almost sarcastic-like air.
"I'm not sure. But if you find out, let me know"