Another, different night, and a different bar, but no less dark and cold for all that.  Driving rain outside, and inside a young man is propping up the bar.  Different sizes and shapes of glasses are stacked around him, some empty, some nearly full and many in various stages in between. 

He is wearing a plain white t-shirt, ordinary jeans and non-descript brown boots.  No nametags, no easy identifiers, looking at him he could be anybody.

Obviously, that is the whole point. 

Despite the fact that the clock above the bar shows a time which could either be very, very late or extremely early, despite the rain and darkness outside, despite even the pub itself, which is dimly lit, stained with nicotine and so generally dingy that it appears overcrowded even when there is no-one else here, the young man is not alone.

Sitting neatly at the other end of the bar is a man in a plain grey/black suit.  He is watching.  Not anything in particular, just everything in general- the walls, windows, doors, telephones and the bartender, who is now feeling nervous.  The one and the only thing that the man in a suit is obviously not watching is the young, plain man.  Man in a suit has not even glanced in his direction, not once.

This seems more than a little odd. 

The young man at the bar, who is patiently working his way through every single type and combination of alcoholic beverage available, both over the counter and under it, is not a worrying figure.  The man in the suit, however, exudes such an air of quiet menace that his obvious avoidance of the young man is left entirely unexplained. 

That he could be frightened is unthinkable, so this must just be caution.  Obviously he knows something about the young man that is not common knowledge. 

Obviously. 

Finally the young man sighs, reaches into his pocket, and pays the bartender wordlessly.  He gives exact change, and gets up to leave. 

The man in a suit arises at the same time and stands so that, in the small crowded room, he blocks the exit. 

Tension hangs in the air.

The young man is the first to move.  He relaxes, and smiles, a genuine friendly smile.

Man in a suit does not smile. 

"Why do this? What do you hope to achieve?" It is the man in a suit who has spoken, his voice clear and precise.

The young man shrugs.  The message is clear- he doesn't care what man in a suit thinks of him.

"It is a waste of time."  Man in a suit states this, not as opinion, but as carefully considered fact. 

Young man shrugs again.

 "So?"  The perfect teenager's inflection- arrogance and stubbornness are included there, along with an unhealthy dose of like-I-care.

Man in a suit is clearly unimpressed. 

"That doesn't mean anything."

"I do it because I enjoy it.  And because you don't. Now if you'll excuse me…" He moves as if to leave, and man in a suit blocks his escape.

"They are tracking you." 

The young man is apparently shocked by this news.  He stares at man in a suit, eyes wide. 

Surprisingly expressive, considering. 

"How?" He asks weakly.  Man in a suit shakes his head. 

"The project and the company.  The only thing which keeps you safe is their ignorance- they think the project is still unfinished."  The young man nods.

"Then I suppose I will have to get involved.  Thank you."   Man in a suit doesn't appear to appreciate the young man's manners, but he still stands aside to let him pass.

As he does so, the young man grins. 

"Oh, and thanks for the drinks."  Man in a suit looks rattled by this, but it's too late for him to say anything about it now, as the young man has already left. 

"The bartender looks at him worriedly.

"Hey, er, listen.  About the bill-"