unconditionally
.
The package sat on the dining table.
He hadn't been expecting anything, and most certainly hadn't left a key so that it could be brought into his apartment, which meant its presence was a bit of an enigma. And potentially dangerous, of course.
He'd been out of town for the last three days on a complicated undercover job that had ended successfully, but had left him bone weary and more disillusioned than usual. He eyed the box warily, debating calling the super to check if he had let the delivery person in, but a glance at his watch nixed that idea. Three in the morning, better to let the man sleep than have a leaky pipe go unfixed out of vengeance.
He gave the place a quick once over, finding nothing out of place other than his newest acquisition. He tossed his keys in the bowl, hung up his jacket, toed off his shoes, kicked them aside and made his way to the kitchen. He would need a beer or three in him before taking a look inside that box.
Halfway through his second he made his way back to the table, head cocked as he eyed the box. Nothing visible on the top or side he could see, no postage or courier tags anywhere in sight. He strolled about to see every blank side, only the bottom outside his range of sight. With a sigh of irritation he glanced at his wrist to see he had six green and decided to spare one on the off chance there might be something deadly within the cardboard and to keep from involving the Agency as of yet.
Reaching out he dangled his hand above the box, mere millimeters away and let the Quicksilver flow to drip off his fingers. Not as fast as physically touching the box, but safer. He may not have planned on being a spy, but he'd still learned more than a few things over the years thanks to his paranoid partner. Don't touch the strange box in case it may go boom but one of many lessons that had been worth remembering.
He stopped the flow as the box went transparent, revealing bubble wrap with something dark buried within and, on the top, above the air-filled plastic, a card.
Leaning over the invisible box he read the generic "Happy Birthday" with streamers and balloon sprinkled about. That was it. No obvious wires or cell phones, or bits of electronics up against the sides that could be used as a trigger. It appeared to be safe, though he'd prefer it if he could see what the bubble wrap contained. Gently setting his hand atop the Quicksilver he told it to flake away and a second later the table was covered in the government's most expensive glitter.
He pulled his knife out of his pocket, snapped it open and sliced the tape holding the box shut. Setting the knife aside for now, he dug inside and pulled out the card, still confused by the "Happy Birthday" given his still remained several months away. He flipped it open to discover it was just as generic as he had thought and had just one hand-written sentence within. When you leave, what will you do?
He twitched. Recalling exactly when those words had been asked of him, and by whom. And, truth be told, he had never considered what might happen after… After the Agency. After the gland. Because he had become certain there was no out, not one that didn't involve his death in some dramatic fashion, be it a bullet or grand Quicksilver gland meltdown.
Yeah, he'd told Alyx he'd come knocking on her door should the gland be dealt with in some life-affirming manner, but who the hell had he been kidding? His only way out of this life sentence would be on a cold metal slab in some nondescript morgue. There would be no retiring with a half-assed pension for this invisible man.
At least, that's what he had always believed. No happy endings in this story. So why would Alyx send him a card with these words on it… with this challenge on it. And there was no way in hell anyone else knew about it. There had only been the two of them and a few bored seagulls. He'd told no one and was reasonably certain she hadn't either.
Feeling somewhat bemused he sliced his way through the bubble wrap to discover one very high-end laptop buried within. He pulled it out, followed by all the attendant bits and kibbles trying to figure out why someone would send him computer given his total lack of tech skills. And while he might be lacking in the geek department he knew enough to know that this computer was not available to the public at large and had been manufactured by a company owned by Alyx's brother Patrick.
Which meant Alyx had to be involved in this somehow and that made him pause in his tracks. He'd meant what he'd said, until the gland had been dealt with, which he expected to be never, he would stay away from her. So this… gift, whatever it may be, should be set aside and never looked at, and yet…
He finished his beer, grabbed another and drank half before coming to a decision. He carried all the bits to the living area and set them up. He sipped at the beer while he waited for the machine to boot up, the moon running through its phases the only sign the computer seemed to be working like it should. When it finally finished, dozens of files edged the entire screen, outlining the background image of hieroglyphic depictions of Anubis, the one in the upper right corner named "start here," so he did the sensible thing and double clicked it. Inside was a video file, which he also double-clicked assuming it would start up all on it's own.
It popped up, taking up most of the generous screen with a pretty brunette he'd never seen before.
"Mr. Fawkes, my name is Kat and I'll be disseminating the information to you in the various videos. For now I'll give you a quick overview and then a rundown of the contents of the files so you can make the best choice for you." She smiled, eyes twinkling in the camera light. "We've worked hard on this project as specified to give you a full range of choices depending on how you wish to proceed. Details will be provided in the other videos and you will be given a contact number to speak to me personally to ask any other questions and to make arrangements." She paused, head tipping slightly to one side as if unsure how to proceed. "Your options are pretty straightforward: removal of the gland in its current state, removal of just the toxin producing cells, and, of course, removal of the gland at a later date should you choose the second option. We have also devised a toxin inhibiting agent that can be used long-term, should you not wish to risk a direct modification of the gland at this juncture. All options have been thoroughly and rigorously tested and deemed safe, which is why you are receiving this packet now." She looked straight into the camera and it felt like her eyes bored into his. "Any removal will require six to eight weeks including recovery time from the surgery. The removal of the toxin may take up to four weeks, depending on how you handle the withdrawal symptoms." She rubbed her hands together. "So, shall we get started?"
. . .
"Bobby, I need some advice, but its gotta stay between you and me."
Hobbes raised one eyebrow to go along with the beer, after he swallowed he asked, "This why you had me meet you at this hellhole?"
Okay, so the place might not be the Cafe Bleu, but it wasn't that bad. Lots of mircobrews and his partner's favorites on tap. The clientele wasn't bikers or the like, but mostly hipsters and similar, which apparently Hobbes found distasteful, though Darien had no idea why. He had just wanted a place that bore no relation to either of their usual haunts in hopes of keeping this conversation private. "Robert Hobbes, stop being a snob, especially since I'm buying."
Bobby snorted and downed another swallow of the beer, which he appeared to be enjoying, his complaints about the atmosphere notwithstanding. "I am not a snob, just don't know the place is all."
Darien sighed softly. "That's kinda the point. I need to talk to my friend without the risk of someone overhearing."
Hobbes' eyes narrowed. "Fawkes, what did you do now?"
Darien shook his head. "Not me this time." He rubbed the back of his neck, not quite certain how to begin this conversation, not wanting to get his friend in trouble or feel caught in the middle, but he needed someone to talk to, to get an outside opinion on the situation and an idea of what to do next, since he clearly had no clue at all. "I don't want the Official… or anyone else at the Agency knowing about this just yet."
"What are you not saying here, Fawkes?"
"This is your out, Bobby. If you feel you can't keep it a secret till I'm ready to let the cat out of the bag, we'll just grab lunch and talk about the Padres and go back to work like always." He swirled his glass about on the tabletop before him, the condensation causing it to slide easily over the heavily waxed surface.
Hobbes just stared at him for a long moment before saying, "That big, huh?"
Darien nodded then signaled their server for another round, somehow he knew they were both going to need it. "Bigger."
Hobbes waited until the new beers were set on the table before responding. "Fawkes, I got your back. Whatever this is I'll keep it to myself until you tell me otherwise."
Darien felt some of the tension drain from his body at the response. He could only hope Bobby would keep his word once he heard what was going on. "What if I said there was a viable way to remove the gland… and that it didn't come from the Keeper?"
Hobbes grunted as if kicked. "I'd say you couldn't trust a thing Arnaud tells you."
Darien chuckled softly. "Good advice. But this didn't come from Arnie."
"Then who?" the question clearly a challenge.
Darien wasn't certain he should reveal who had truly produced this miracle, so did a fine job a prevaricating. "Let's just say it's someone I trust implicitly."
"Fawkes, who…" Bobby trailed off, one hand coming up to rub his face. "The kid, who else would it be."
Darien didn't say a word, not about to confirm anything at this point. He had no idea what the Official might do if he knew Alyx had made an end run around him and his plans. The Official wanted his invisible weapon, Alyx wanted Darien happy and the two, for the most part, were most certainly mutually exclusive. She had escaped the Agency and now she, to all appearances, had given Darien the same opportunity to do so.
"You won't see her till the gland is dealt with so she deals with it. Just like her. You gonna do it?" Hobbes asked without batting an eye.
Darien blinked, expecting an argument on why it would be a stupid idea to take such a risk. "I… I don't know yet. It's kinda why I wanted to talk to you."
Hobbes leaned back, scratching his ear as he eyed his partner. "You don't love her anymore?"
"What? No. I still want to be with her, I just…"
"Then what the hell is stopping you? You want to be with her, get it done and go find her," Bobby told him, making seem as if there should be nothing to think about. "She clearly still wants you even after all the shit you've pulled else she wouldn't have gone through all the trouble to get you the out you required."
Darien sighed, head dropping, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "It's not that. I've got options and I'm not sure which one I should take."
"Options? Out is out, right?" Hobbes looked bemused and tried to cover it by drinking down a fair portion of the beer.
Darien nodded. "Yeah, out is option number one. Number two is using a toxin inhibitor. I'd still risk going Mad, but it could take months to build up enough for that to happen. I wouldn't get any additional see-through time, but I wouldn't need as much Counteragent either."
Hobbes nodded sagely. "Keep's been working on something like that, but it's still in the early testing stages."
Darien had known about that, bugged her for updates every now and then only to be told over and over again that 'it is a work in progress' and not much else. "The Official likes his leash, especially after losing Alyx."
"True 'nuff. What's option number three?"
"Have the toxin cells removed and keep the gland, which could be removed at a later date."
"Which would leave you able to keep working… for the government or… privately."
"Hobbes, I'm not likely to go back to being a thief." True enough. His perspective had changed too much for thieving to ever be a comfortable fit again.
"I know that, Fawkes. But with the Q-gland and no leash you could have your choice of jobs in any Agency in any country. Hell, private security agencies would pay top dollar for your services. You could literally write your own ticket."
"But I'd have to play by their rules. I'm not a killer, Bobby, and have no interest in becoming one. The Official gets that, even if he don't really like it. And… and if I leave the loving bosom of the Agency I also lose the protection. It ain't much, but it has kept me alive so far." Yeah, he'd been thinking long and hard about this, weighing all the pros and cons he could think of, some ridiculous even to his mind, but no matter how many items made the con list, the top one on the pro still pulled at him: being with Alyx. Which is why he needed to talk this out. Following his heart was one thing, following it only to be killed shortly thereafter was another entirely. He wanted to be rational about this.
"So, go work for the kid," Hobbes suggested as if should have been obvious. "You'd fit in perfectly with that team she has chasing down Changeling." Hobbes laughed at the stunned expression on his friend's face. "C'mon, Fawkes, did you really think there wouldn't be an offer included? Kid likes working with you and you make one hell of a team."
"So do we," Darien pointed out. Number one on the con list was losing Bobby and Claire and all of those at the Agency he'd come to care about. Hell, the Official was the closest thing to a father he had in some ways, and the man knew more about his family than even Darien, and that remained a connection he feared to lose.
"Fawkes, the Agency is my last stop on this train, you have the chance to go to the end of the line. Don't let me be the one to hold you back," Hobbes stated bluntly, making it clear he'd take no argument on the matter.
"Doesn't matter, you're my partner and I want it to stay that way."
"Faw… Darien, we're also friends and you moving on ain't gonna change that," the assurance sounded sincere, but Darien had a hard time believing it. They'd been forced together and managed to find a common ground in the chaos. They'd survived because of each other, but once gone their separate ways would Hobbes even care anymore? "You love her. Don't let one old man hold you back from finding your future. You've known she was the one since the first day you met, how could you not take this chance to be with her?"
"Bobby, I…"
Hobbes shook his head. "This is your friend talking; do it, get out, go to her and beg her forgiveness and hope like hell she'll take you back."
"What do I have to offer her?" Darien questioned aloud, not for the first time wondering why she had chosen him out of all the men in the world.
Hobbes snorted. "The only thing she has ever cared about: Darien Fawkes."
Darien sat there in disbelief.
"Fawkes, there is nothing she wouldn't do for you. You. Not the gland, not the thief, not the con man, and not the invisible man. Just you. And if this doesn't prove it, nothing will. She walked away when you told her to. Came back when you asked her to. Created the inhibitor for you. Hell, she gave up the chance to go back to her kids for you." Hobbes may never have really approved of the relationship, but he'd been paying attention to all the details that had clearly gone flying over Darien's head. "I know she has a hard time saying how she feels, but she shows it in everythingshe does."
Somehow Hobbes had seen what Darien had failed to. Viscerally he knew Alyx cared about him, loved him even, but since she had never said it, he'd always had his doubts. He'd just been too stupid to realize that she showed her love in deeds instead of words. Until he had walked away from them she had spent every spare moment on trying to save his sorry ass, to give him every chance to live the life he wanted; away from the Agency and without the gland. She'd had her mind splinter into pieces and still had done everything in her power to get him the answers he needed, heedless of the consequences.
"Bobby, I love you like a brother, but I need to be with her."
Hobbes laughed softly. "Just invite me to the wedding, okay?"
"Done. Now the hard part."
"And that would be?"
"Telling the boss."