He heard the door open but didn't look up.
He knew Alex's footsteps like he knew his own; Crawley or Smithers would have made a noise, and he wasn't dead, so he could stare at the microscopic remains of his Contract a while longer.
"Hello, Gregorovich."
Blunt. Judging by the confidence in the… man's voice, he had at least one gun on him.
Yassen didn't. Since he'd sent the other away, he had decided that he'd prefer to die than continue to be SCORPIA's slave.
That it was Blunt that had found him first… well, that was an added bonus.
"You stole something from me, and I'd like it back."
His face twitched in the beginning of a sneer, back still to the man.
"Alex isn't a possession to be bought and sold. He's a person and belongs to himself," he replied.
Blunt scoffed.
"Have you fallen in love with him? Please - you haven't got a heart, never mind the ability to fool yourself into thinking you love someone. Besides, do you honestly think he'd want you?"
"Out of the two of us, I know I wouldn't be his second choice," Yassen said, slowly turning to face the other, "especially since you're the one who hired a SCORPIA operative to kill his uncle - I would be more surprised if he didn't want to kill you."
The other man snarled, pointing the gun at his heart. He managed to turn enough, with the split second's notice he had, so the bullet entered his shoulder rather than his heart.
Yassen lunged for the man, knocking him to the floor with a crash, ignoring the pain.
(Elsewhere in the house, two people heard the noise. One ran towards it; the other advanced cautiously)
They wrestled for control of the gun, Blunt showing surprising resilience in the face of the pain he must feel while being elbowed in the ribs.
A noise from upstairs distracted the older man, allowing the assassin to yank the revolver from his grasp and throw it into the far corner.
He wanted to make the other's death a bit more… physical.
He moved his body, holding the older man down while his hands reached around the other's throat. He squeezed, feeling the throat tighten under his grip.
Blunt's eyes widened, hands scrabbling towards his as the other realised his fate. The other man's face was slowly changing colour as he was deprived of oxygen.
Yassen's usual level of situational awareness failed him when, as someone ran down the stairs into the room with them, he didn't notice.
"Yassen!"
His head shot up, a short inhalation the only sign of his surprise.
"Alex?" he breathed, standing up, hands releasing their victim's throat, "what are you doing here?"
"I'm sick of running. Blunt was the main force behind us being hunted - once he's gone, we won't have to keep looking over our shoulders. If I'd let Ash drive away, I'd be running away from the problem, and I don't want to leave."
Click.
"As touching as this is, I'm going to take my Sub now."
In the few seconds of being ignored, the man had crawled over to the gun. It was pointed unerringly at Alex, who was quickly pushed behind him.
"If you come now, I might not shoot Gregorovich," Blunt declared condescendingly.
"And I'm the Queen of Sheba. You'd try to kill him regardless," the teen replied, hand resting on his back.
"Try? I'll succeed!"
"You won't," Yassen declared.
Blunt may be holding the gun now, but he knew he could take it from him. The task was made easier by the enclosed space.
Blunt would be disarmed in seconds.
The man had a split second to look shocked when he simultaneously ducked and lunged to the right before, a second later, changing direction and aiming for him. He gritted his teeth when the move resulted in him ploughing into Blunt, injured shoulder first, managing not to yell from the pain. Thankfully, the gun didn't fire since it would have sent another bullet into his shoulder. The other man, not expecting another grappling session so soon after the first, dropped the gun and accidentally kicked it towards the door. He saw Alex grab it but had to look away to avoid getting an elbow to the face.
"Gregorovich."
At the sound of his former colleague's voice, Yassen flipped Blunt, grabbing the man's neck with both hands (one sharp jerk would snap the man's neck) and turning to present his back to the corner.
"Nile," he replied, taking in the vitiligo-afflicted man pressing a gun to the back of the teen's head, his shadow distorted oddly behind him.
"Rider. Why don't you drop that gun before anyone gets hurt?"
Alex's eyes flicked towards him. Only when he nodded did the teen comply with the order, letting the gun fall. It accidentally hit off his runner, spun away and came to a halt halfway between the two groups.
"I've changed my mind. Nile, kill both of them - I don't want Gregorovich's scraps. You might as well complete the set," Blunt declared, voice cutting off when the hands around his neck tightened (1), cutting off his oxygen supply.
"What?" the teen gasped, face rapidly paling. Nile tsked, shaking his head mockingly.
"Keeping secrets from your husband already? No wonder the Marriage failed," he sighed, leaning forward so his mouth was a few inches from the teen's ear, who tried to flinch away. Yassen's grip tightened, the shadow behind the operative moving oddly.
"My first operation, I was hired to plant a bomb on a plane," Nile breathed, voice carrying to all occupants, "it was supposed to hold three passengers - a man, woman, and child. The youngest had an earache, so he didn't get on the flight. The explosion left them an orphan, and he was sent to live with his uncle. A few months ago, the same person hired me to kill a man so he couldn't annul a Marriage between his nephew and his boss. The same man also hired me to kill his first Sub - Howell's younger brother. I… enjoyed myself with him before I killed him. You… yes, I'll definitely have a good time before I kill you."
The shadow that wasn't a shadow, but a vengeful older brother holding a gun, aimed and fired, hitting the operative in the carotid artery. Alex wrenched himself free as the man fell to the ground, but also fell. Yassen dropped Blunt, gaze taking in the teen's uninjured body.
His inattention cost them: Ash, thinking Nile was already dead, turned towards Blunt, pointing his gun at the man. The operative wasn't and, with moments left to live, aimed the gun still clasped in his hand and fired, sending a 9mm bullet through his killer's brain, who died instantly. The vitiligo-afflicted man tried to aim at Alex but couldn't keep the gun steady as the life visibly faded from his body, dying less than twenty seconds later as his lifeblood spurted out of his neck.
Alex looked over at Yassen, checking to see how he was. Apart from the gunshot wound in the shoulder, the assassin didn't seem injured. Judging by the speed the blood was seeping out, it hadn't hit any arteries, so he was unlikely to bleed out in the next few minutes. He was distracted by movement behind him, eyes darting to the figure lying on the ground who was trying to stand up, clutching a different revolver from the one lying on the ground, gaze fixed intently on the man's back.
"No!" he yelled, reaching forward. He grabbed the gun lying on the ground, leaned around the alarmed-looking assassin, aimed and fired, shooting his "husband" - the person responsible for the deaths of everyone in his family - in the heart, who fell to the ground, dead.
He expected to feel… something - guilt, perhaps - at killing someone.
Instead, as he took in Yassen's dilating eyes, he felt horny.
Unfortunately for both of them, Crawley and Smithers chose that moment to burst into the room, guns ready to shoot a non-existent threat.
Alex heard and ignored the conversation that followed as they left the house, though he noted that the house had a set of bombs rigged in the walls that had been triggered, which would blow it to kingdom come in five minutes, removing any evidence of the bodies within. There was also the sound of a gong being struck, which he thought was pretty random (especially since he knew there wasn't one in the house).
Crawley took the driver's seat, with Smithers taking the passenger seat, leaving them with the pick of the seats in the back.
They got to Stuttgart Airport in ninety minutes, thanks to the light traffic. He had seen Yassen use the trip to book them two seats on a flight to Montenegro, and he guessed the two agents would be heading back to England.
They separated after handshakes and promises to keep in touch; Crawley and Smithers had to hurry to get to their gate in time while they went to grab food from McDonalds - well, he got food. Yassen bought a salad and bottled water.
The man tensed as they finished their food, gaze fixed on one of the staff walking towards them. She was carrying a few empty trays and cleaning the tables.
"Congratulations," she said when she reached their seat. She picked up their rubbish, gave the table a quick wipe and walked back towards the counter, leaving the bottom tray behind.
"Excuse me, Ma'am? You left the tray… Ma'am? The-"
"She did it deliberately," Yassen stated. When Alex turned back, he saw a crisp, white envelope on the tray. There was no name or address, only a silver motif of a scorpion with its tail raised. They stared at it for a few moments.
"Do you want me to open it?" he enquired when it seemed they would continue to sit looking at it for a long time. He didn't get a reply, but the hand that reached out to grab the envelope was trembling slightly.
The knife the woman had left behind was used to open the envelope. He waited as his companion read the letter, growing concerned when it fell from the other's hand.
"Yassen? What is it? Is it bad news? What-"
He blinked when the letter was abruptly shoved in his face. Once he finished reading it, he blinked.
Reread it.
Blinked again.
"Is this real?" Yassen asked, hope evident in his voice.
Alex blinked again, then let out a whoop, startling everyone in earshot.
"You're free!" he yelled, jumping out of his seat and hugging the man, who tightly hugged him back.
When his shoulder, where the other's face was pressed against, started feeling wet, he didn't comment.
The letter fell from Alex's hand without him realising, face up.
Messrs Gregorovich and Rider:
Mr Rider declared his love and passed a test before the last of Mr Gregorovich's Contract disintegrated, as noted by the sound of the gong.
As such, Mr Gregorovich has been relieved of his role as an operative.
The Board of SCORPIA would like to congratulate Messrs Gregorovich and Rider, and we hope to work with one or both of you in the future.
Julia screamed.
In her head, of course - she wasn't so out of control that she would scream in public.
When she realised Nile had died and Gregorovich was out due to Rider passing the test, she saw her plans disappear in a puff of smoke (though at least Howell was dead).
The others had different opinions on things.
"It's a pity no one will get Gregorovich as second, but that's life," Kroll noted.
"It was the most entertaining thing I've seen in years," Grendel declared, "a willingness to kill for his love - he passed with flying colours".
Yu appeared annoyed, and she had a feeling Howell may have been his.
Shame on him for not choosing the right operative, she thought, already comparing all the recent Malagosto graduates with her list of criteria.
Kurst took his phone out, sent a text, and then put it back.
"I had a feeling this would happen, so I had a stamped Freer sent to one of our logistics team based in Stuttgart, who has been told to hand it over."
"They should be killed. Other operatives will start getting ideas that they can leave if we let them walk," Julia snarled, control vanishing in an instant at the thought of the bastardiaid (2) escaping.
She saw Dr Three smile, and a hint of unease went through her.
That was the smile he wore before he started one of his interrogations.
"Speaking of having them killed, would you like to tell the rest of the Board about the message you sent to Gregorovich, hoping to make him leave Rider before there was a chance for a test?"
She didn't try to lie - they all knew each other's tells.
Now she had to spin the truth in the right way.
Her future on the Board depended on it.
"I didn't think SCORPIA should lose Gregorovich. He's a profitable operative."
"Our policy is to not interfere with tests," Chase said, "yet, you put yourself and your wants above that directive."
The other Board members looked at each other, waiting. When no one made a motion of dissent, they turned back to Julia, who could almost feel the seconds ticking away.
"Julia Charlotte Glenys Rothman, the Board has made a decision about your status," announced Yu.
She never heard the bang or felt the bullet enter her brain.
Dr Three lowered the pistol, replacing it in its holster attached to the underside of the table.
Everyone took one last look at their former colleague before dismissing her from their mind.
"Does anyone have any suggestions for a replacement?" Kurst enquired.
Five years later
Yassen woke up slowly, the sound of the waves lapping at the shore a pleasant wake-up call.
His hand crept over to the other side, grumbling when he felt the empty half of the bed. He lay there for another minute before getting out of bed, throwing on a pair of shorts as he half-stumbled out of the bedroom.
Alex was sitting at the table, an empty bowl showing how long he'd been up. The young man smiled when their eyes met, pulling out the chair beside him before getting up and walking over to the counter where another bowl was.
"I could have done that," he half-heartedly protested when his breakfast was brought over, smiling when his lips were captured by the other and responding to the slow kiss.
"I wanted to," the other man replied, the corners of those lips lifting up.
"What are you wearing to the anniversary party?" Yassen asked, gaze flicking between the plain gold rings on both of their left ring fingers as he dipped his spoon into the yoghurt, granola and strawberry mix.
"I was considering the outfit I wore when I first saw you at Point Blanc, for old time's sake. Hugo, Eva and the other students will understand and, as for the rest of the guests, I don't care. They did nothing to change things, so they can go hang," Alex declared resolutely.
He smiled at the passion in the statement his husband (he sometimes locked himself in a room, holding his wedding ring to his lips and pinching himself, sure it was a dream he was about to wake up from) had made.
"Smithers called me yesterday, asking me to send their regrets that they can't make it," Yassen announced.
"Is there another mad billionaire the Department needs to investigate?"
"No - they're island hopping in the Caribbean."
"Oh?" Alex asked, eyebrows raised, "I didn't think Crawley was too fond of the sun."
"Considering he was the one who picked their honeymoon destination, he must at least not hate it."
It took a few seconds for it to sink in.
"They got MARRIED!? "
"Technically, they eloped."
"Details, details. Come on - we need to buy them a gift. What do you think they'd like?" Alex asked, looking impatiently at his half-empty bowl.
"The shops won't move in the time it takes me to finish my breakfast," Yassen laughed, placing his free hand in the other's, "or, if you're that desperate, grab the laptop and look up a few online shops."
His husband clasped his hands with both of his.
"What would I do without you?"
"Panic? Offend the wrong person? Give someone the-"
"Yassen! That was a rhetorical question!"
"Regardless. It's a two-hour helicopter flight to Point Blanc, (3) so we need to leave now." He finished his breakfast, and they put on their outfits.
"I wonder what Blunt would think if he knew he brought together everyone who would go on to have the Sub Marriage laws abolished," Alex mused as they locked the apartment, on the top floor of a complex by Av. Princesse Grace.
"I'm sure he'd be rolling in his…we'll call it a grave - especially with the changes Crawley and Smithers have implemented," Yassen replied, greeting their neighbour.
When the helicopter was in the air with all of Monaco below them, Yassen smiled as he looked at Alex.
нет места лучше дома. (4)
Críochnaithe
(A.N:
(1) I don't know if there's a hold that allows someone to choke someone else while being one quick movement away from breaking their neck. I made it up
(2) Welsh for "bastards" - according to Google Translate
(3) Another thing I made up
(4) Russian for "There's no place like home" - according to Google Translate
And that's it! The end of my longest fic (to date)!
I hope you enjoyed it.
I plan to take a break from posting long fics while I build up a few chapters for my next multi-chapter fic.
I will be posting one-shots on specific dates, and I will post any others I write in the meantime the following Wednesday.