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Old 05-13-2017 at 01:56 AM
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 Post [21] »


Rebecca Cross


Begging felt a lot like ripping her chest open and tossing him her heart. Rebecca couldn’t think of a moment in her life when she had begged. Not even when she was tied up to that little wooden chair and she had thought she had been taking her final breaths. This was powerless. Jean had everything she could offer him and who knew what he was going to do with it. Logically she knew that she should maybe be thinking of what would happen if he were to lash out but it was her gut that kept her still. He turned away from her and she wished he didn’t. Rebecca’s eyes stared at his back searching for something, anything, a sign, but she held her breath and waited. The tears were drying, her heart was slowing. and it felt like forever until…

“I do believe,”
Jean murmured turning back to face her, “And I love you too, which is why this hurts so much.” That should have felt good. He loved her back. It should have made her world start spinning again and it all seem better but it just made the guilt sting more. Wiping away at her tears Rebecca stood a little taller, attempting to regain what was left of her composure. Let’s face it, there wasn't much else she could do tonight but try to pick up the pieces of what was left of her pride.

“I want to know why… I want to know why you thought you had to do this without me. But what I need to know is who and how deep we are in this thing.”

Watching him go over to the bar she nodded fiercely, returning back to stone. Rebecca pushed herself from her seated position on the arm of the couch and let herself fall into the main cushion of the couch. Looking down at her torn up hands she began flexing one in and out, mindlessly ripping the bottom of her tank top and beginning to wrap a piece around her palm. that had begun to have new bleed.

“Every man in his pyramid knows by now probably. They have no idea I am his daughter. Yet.” Rebecca finished, knowing full well and having a plan in her mind for the big reveal. The big moment. Him or me. She turned matter of factly becoming business and trying to be as unemotional as possible but it was hard when it was the love of your life at risk. “You can look over the documents again. Most everyone we need to know is in there, the names, location, the tattoo symbol… It’s on their wrist. That’s their sign. They’ll be coming to us.” Rebecca was now staring blankly out in front of her with wide eyes. “He likes to move slow.” She whispered, the threat of the images of her father trying to come back into the corners of her mind. “Always did.”


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Old 05-13-2017 at 03:35 AM
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 Post [22] »


Jean Sauveur

Jean sipped his drink slowly despite the fact that he wanted to throw it back in a single gulp. He forced himself into restraint. Into control. And even he knew it was a pitiful attempt, but it was that or helplessness. He would always choose the former. As his mind swarm and swirled there was a ringing growing in his ears. As ringing that slowly morphed into the sound of her voice, across the room but seeming very far away. “Every man in his pyramid knows by now probably. They have no idea I am his daughter. Yet.” He took another sip as old recalled facts fell slowly into place. He had studied that pyramid. Those were the facts that had been compiling and considering when the possession alone. He blinked as some of the fog seemed to lift and reveal familiar shapes and colors. Jean blinked as he could almost recall names, connections of that pyramid.

He glanced up at Rebecca to find she had moved to his couch. “You can look over the documents again. Most everyone we need to know is in there, the names, location, the tattoo symbol… It’s on their wrist. That’s their sign. They’ll be coming to us.” Names, he knew some of those names. Locations, such as safehouses, distribution centers, meeting places; he knew most of those as well. And the symbol, the tattoo. Give him a pen and paper he could draw it—badly—right now. “He likes to move slow.” She said in a quiet voice he could barely hear from across the room. “Always did.”

Jean felt like he was suddenly moving a lighting speed though he was standing stone still. He was a fool. A complete and utter fool. He thought he had to decide between the rage and her. But that was not the answer. The answer was the rage, almost all his life it had been. He had turned it into a tool that wielded with speed and dexterity. So why was he trying to fight it? It was no surprise that it was eating it alive. You didn’t try to force a wild animal, you stayed the hell out of its way and let it do what it did best. Jean chuckled slightly to himself then leaned his head back and sighed deeply shaking it ruefully before letting loose a barking laugh. “Fool…” he muttered.

Jean refilled his own glass and took a second into which he poured a second healthy measure. “Both of us—for the record—were fools,” he said as he made his way to the couch and set the glasses on the table in front of her. He kept moving to the other side of the room and the built-in entertainment center. He reached underneath a shelf and flipped a small latch which allowed the right side shelves to swing open. From the compartment inside he took a stack of thin folders, selected the correct one and replaced the others. “I would never attempt to how to bring charges against a suspect or gather witness statements… that wouldn’t latter be thrown out for coercion. And as pitiful as I would be trying to live your old life, it turns out you were just as lost trying to live mine.” Jean dropped the folder on the table next to their drinks.

“So we will make this work,” he said as he eased on the couch next to her, “but it will be on my terms. And the first thing we will do is research. Because this is what I do. This is why I didn’t tell you about this before. I was still doing my due diligence.” Jean lifted one of the glasses from the table and placed it in her hand, taking her hand in his in the process. “And I need to calm down. We both do. I forgot the first lesson I ever learned in this job is that losing your calm accomplishes nothing in these situations. Besides,” he smiled at her in way that was far less amused than it was sinister, “we have nothing to worry about. Not really. Its not that those people will ever involve authorities. And when they come after us… it will just save us the time and trouble of hunting them down.”




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Old 05-13-2017 at 04:28 AM
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 Post [23] »


Rebecca Cross


“Fool…”

Rebecca looked over quizzically at Jean who seemed to be in his own little world by the bar. When he barked out a laugh, she jumped in a surprise. The sound of a laugh was the last thing she thought she would hear tonight and a noise she hadn’t heard in a couple months. He settled in next to her with their drinks and retrieved a folder form the entertainment center in a small secret compartment. Rebecca was impressed. They would know be knowing one another on a completely new level. Not that they hadn’t before, but between her past and seeing how he worked… It was going to take them to a new height. Which would be the only silver lining in this.

“Both of us- for the record- were fools,” The folder slapped against the table. “ I would never attempt to how to bring charges against a suspect or gather witness statements… that wouldn’t latter be thrown out for coercion. And as pitiful as I would be trying to live your old life, it turns out you were just as lost trying to live mine.”

Tou-the hell-che'.

“So we will make this work, but it will be on my terms.” She nodded silently. She had no clue what ‘terms’ lurked in this world but she was about to be front and center. Jean was in his mode now like she did whenever a new hot case when come across her desk. It was sharp work ethic. It made her feel safe and like all of this was going to be okay.

“And the first thing we will do is research. Because this is what I do. This is why I didn’t tell you about this before. I was still doing my due diligence.” She took the drink he lifted for her and nodded in a small thank you, bringing the drink to her lips and taking a long sip. The liquid burned her lips but damn did it hit the spot.

“And I need to calm down. We both do. I forgot the first lesson I ever learned in this job is that losing your calm accomplishes nothing in these situations. Besides,” He said and she could see the twinkle in his eye, “we have nothing to worry about. Not really. Its not that those people will ever involve authorities. And when they come after us… it will just save us the time and trouble of hunting them down.” That twinkle would have made her worried, curious, apprehensive. Now seeing his wicked smile, she was appreciative and willing.

Rebecca nodded and pursed her lips looking down at her hand that was in his. She gazed at him for a hard moment in a silent ‘thank you’. Jean was mentally collecting up her messy pieces and putting back together what shouldn’t have happened in the first place. She had never seen him truly… Well, forgive or regain composure in such a way. It made her feel special. No doubt, he wasn’t lying to her when he said he loved her back. She could feel that and it meant the world. Rebecca didn’t know how to express it. Instead, she took their hands and silently kissed his and set their hands in her lap.

She could remember his face. Of course Rebecca didn’t have a clue what it would look like now, pictures didn’t do the hard lines and cracks justice in pictures. Silently she looked straight out ahead and sighed. Something in her mind was wrapping her up and bringing her along for a ride.

“I can remember his face, you know.” She murmured, staring off at the air in front of her but in her mind looking at the foggy past. Rebecca glinted harder as if she were looking at the image in her head closer. The prominent chin, the side smile, the smell of old liquor and cigars… “Of course I don’t know what he’d look like now. Pictures don’t do justice to what life does to you.” Rebecca stated with a sad laugh. Shaking her head she took a long sip of her drink until she could feel it burn her throat and hit against the walls of her stomach.

“He never scared me. To me, he was my super hero.” She whispered and now she was smiling. They had good memories when she was younger. Rebecca was daddy’s little girl and always had been. She had wanted to be forever. Licking her lips, Rebecca shut her eyes and leaned her head back, taking another swig. Sighing, she opened her eyes and nodded her head, staring off. “Until I remember reading something in the paper. Accusations. I took the clipping and tucked it away under my bed. I couldn’t believe it, you know? I didn’t want to.” She whispered, remembering that little girl who was so terrified of her own home and the man under it.

“He found it. And I remember in the middle of the night I woke up to him sitting at the edge of my bed. Staring at me. For a long, long, time. Just staring.” Her throat tightened and her entire body followed suit. She could feel the panic all over again. Rebecca could never forget that moment. “But he didn’t look like my dad. He looked like…” Rebecca trailed off, goosebumps forming along her bare arms. “And then finally, after what seemed like forever, he put two fingers to his lips,” She whispered, doing the same now as she brought her two fingers to her own lips, “Kissed them and put them to mine. And left.”

Now she was back in Jean’s apartment. Shaking the memory off, she cleared her throat and wiped away all of the images in her mind. “It was never the same after that.”

Rebecca refused to let her mind wander into what was behind that statement. Now she finished off her entire drink. Tears threatened the corner of her green bloodshot eyes but she blinked them away successfully like an award winning actress. Sucking in a big breath, she downed the last of her drink.

“So I’ll do whatever you say, Jean.” She told him, finally looking over at him with an emotion that she hadn’t felt until her eyes first set on that file. Revenge. “As long as you promise you’ll include me in every step. Especially the ending. You may know what you’re doing but I can fight too.”

Then it was her turn to laugh.

Rebecca barked out a laugh instantly before the poor guy who had been listening to her for these long minutes could say anything. It was a kind of laugh that hurt her sides and now she had the giggles. She let go of his hand and clenched her stomach as her laugh filled the entire room. “I can fight too, Jean!” She mocked in a goofy voice, holding her hands up, “Oh yeah, I’m really proving my point..I mean,” She nudged his arm trying to get him to see the humor with her and then brought her hands up and down to showcase herself, “just look at me!”


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Old 05-13-2017 at 05:35 AM
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 Post [24] »


Jean Sauveur

Silently the wheels in Jean’s head were spinning, picking up speed and finding old familiar rhythms that had been unused for some time but clearly never forgotten. He was seeing angles, making connections, weighting options. He now had a problem before him and there was only one way to deal with a problem. It was simple, logical, and tactical. It was what he did best, and without being immodest, what he did better than most. From outside his little world of calculations he glanced down as he felt her take his hands in hers and raise them gently to her lips.

“I can remember his face, you know.” she murmured and stared somewhere far beyond him, a million miles beyond the apartment they were sitting in. Somewhere intangible far through time and space. “Of course I don’t know what he’d look like now. Pictures don’t do justice to what life does to you.” Jean bit the inside of his lower lip gently. Of course that was the calculation he hadn’t been doing. This was personal to her, how could it not be. It was her father wasn’t it. And how was that not a situation he understood. It had been a loosely similar situation and feeling that had sent him down this part himself. In a way it was oddly appropriate. What wasn’t appropriate was to berate her with the details right now. It wasn’t right to drag her down into the minutia that he was contemplating. Instead this was the time to listen. To listen as she told him a story as she had listen to her tell him one years ago… though with an ending that involved a steak knife and the watery depths of the Thames.

“It was never the same after that.” Rebecca concluded as she killed her drink in an impressive go ignoring the tears gathering in corners of her eyes. “So I’ll do whatever you say, Jean,” she declared in a tone that trumped tears. “As long as you promise you’ll include me in every step. Especially the ending. You may know what you’re doing but I can fight too.” He chuckled lightly to himself to find that she was laughing too. So violently amused it was apparently paining her. “I can fight too, Jean!” her tone dripping with goofy sarcasm, “Oh yeah, I’m really proving my point..I mean just look at me!”

Jean couldn’t help but smile and shake his head with honest amusement. “Hey, there’s a big difference between taking a beating and being in a fight,” he assured her. “Trust me that’s the voice of a little too much experience,” he added with a wink. Jean leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead before rising from the couch once more making his way in the opposite direction of his last trip and into his kitchen. From the first lower cabinet he retrieved a rather large and well stocked First Aid kit. “So much experience that it is wise that I keep this almost as close as my weapons. And just as well stocked,” he joked giving the box a light shake.

Jean nudged his glass to the side as he seated himself on the coffee table in front of her laying out the box and its contents on the table next to him. Jean selected a few choice tools and set about firstly cleaning her wounds. “My best friend is a doctor which is not a relationship you cultivate unless you’ve had to have more than a few cracked ribs tended to. And contusions, and concussions, and bullets removed….” He listed whimsically. “You get my point. This is nothing to be ashamed of.”

He tested various bones in her hands and prodded gently at her cheekbones and nose for breaks. They were delicate bones and in his experience prone to breakage. He would call Pieter if he found anything of serious concern. “You should know I sympathize with you on this, you know I do. And I also understand putting people on pedestals they don’t deserve and then having to tear them down. But…” he laid his hand gently against her cheek and stared deep into her eyes, “you have to put the emotion aside… Only until the time is right, but it will not serve you well until that time. Right now we need facts.” Jean gave her a small wink and excused himself once more to gather the papers that had been spread across his floor. “These here,” he called as he collected them, “are very basic… too basic. And in a contract pitch that is intentional.” Laying them next to the folder of his own intel he pressed his fingertips together and let the gears begin to spin. “And I think the first real information we need to gather is who sent them us… wouldn’t you?”




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Old 05-14-2017 at 06:53 PM
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 Post [25] »


Rebecca Cross


“Hey, there’s a big difference between taking a beating and being in a fight,” Jean said with a small smile of his own. Rebecca's laugh attack died down and she sighed, leaning farther into the cushion. “Trust me that’s the voice of a little too much experience.” With a kiss on her forehead he left her for a brief moment. Sighing, she plucked up his glass and stole a swig from his drink. She would imagine she would be hearing a lot of Jean's experience. Rebecca knew that she needed to be open to it and not judge it. There was nothing to judge at this point. She wasn't in law enforcement anymore and what she had attempted to do made it clear that deep down Rebecca had something similar to Jean. Not to the extent of him, of course, but maybe they weren't so different. She had been pushed far enough and now her true colors were showing.

Rebecca set down his glass like a child that stole a cookie from the cookie jar when he entered the room. Jean was holding a First Aid Kit that looked like it was it's own Doctor's Office in one kit. “So much experience that it is wise that I keep this almost as close as my weapons. And just as well stocked."

He sat down on the coffee table now studying her closely. Rebecca could feel the hotness of her cheeks and she couldn't tell if it was the liquor or the fact that all her flaws were so up close now. “My best friend is a doctor which is not a relationship you cultivate unless you’ve had to have more than a few cracked ribs tended to. And contusions, and concussions, and bullets removed….You get my point. This is nothing to be ashamed of.”


She was embarrassed of the way she looked though. She had earned her top ranking in Krav Maga and trained in the emotional stress way. Blindfolded, music blaring, people pushing on her and she could only move when she was being choked. Rebecca prided herself in her moves, strength, and intelligent work ethic. Then what the hell happened? Even though Jean, who know had begun to tend to her wounds, feeling around her bones, was understanding and empathetic... There was a tinge in her that had wanted to impress him. That went back to the basic fundamentals of a relationship. Didn't everyone want to impress the guy they were with? Rebecca's mind wandered to what could have been. What if she had succeeded. What if she had come back with not even a mark on her. He probably would still be pissed she snuck around him. The truth was, Jean didn't care if she won or lost, he cared that she put herself in danger and messed with his business. That made her feel even more guilty. Rebecca shuddered her thought web away.

“You should know I sympathize with you on this, you know I do." She nodded, shutting her eyes, feeling how delicate his fingers felt against her skin, "And I also understand putting people on pedestals they don’t deserve and then having to tear them down. But…” Jean paused causing Rebecca to open her eyes. He was staring at her deeply now and she held her breath. “you have to put the emotion aside… Only until the time is right, but it will not serve you well until that time. Right now we need facts.” He gave her and wink and she smirked. Yes, emotion did get things sloppy didn't it? Rebecca was a professional when it came to swallowing emotions but apparently she wasn't as much of a pro as she thought. She wondered how often Jean had to do that and what was his own breaking point where it became difficult for him... Then she remembered the events that just took place between them and wondered if maybe they were one another's breaking points. How romantic, right? She sighed and laughed at her own thoughts. Oh what a life.

“These here,” She looked over her shoulder to see that Jean was gathering up the papers that lay all over the floor, “are very basic… too basic. And in a contract pitch that is intentional.” Rebecca was watching him, almost like she could see the dark gears in his head turning. It was mesmerizing. “And I think the first real information we need to gather is who sent them us… wouldn’t you?”

Now her gears were turning. Rebecca stood up slowly, crossing her arms. She plucked up both their glasses and went over the bar for a refill, silently brainstorming. Pouring the liquor and watching as if the answers would be found in it she was thinking of how she planned on being resourceful in this. Sure, Jean had the lead. That was fine. She didn't have delusional pride to where she was blinded at certain things she simply could not accomplish alone. Well, that was a lie. She had just tried to take down the Russian mob all by herself. It was time to turn over a new leaf now. Still... Rebecca felt like she had this one step.

Then it clicked.

Myron.

"I'll have the name by tomorrow night." Rebecca stated with all the confidence as she came over to him and held out his newly filled glass. "Trust me?"


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Old 05-15-2017 at 05:36 AM
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 Post [26] »


Jean Sauveur

She was feeling better, it would seem, as Rebecca collected both of their glasses and rose to take care of him for a moment in turn moving towards the small corner bar for refills. For this Jean was silently very thankful. Consoling had never really been a great skill for him. In general it required a level of empathy that just wasn’t part of his nature. And when it was someone he cared for their distress was more likely to evoke anger from his towards those who had inflicted it that it was to generate feelings of sympathy. Perhaps that was one of the many reason that Jean loved this woman so much—despite their obvious dissimilarities. She didn’t ‘need’ him in the way so many people seemed to think men should be needed. Though his overprotective streak was arguably a mile wide he had never been the sort to play the white knight to someone else’s damsel in distress. The idea of him being a white knight in any capacity was hilarious in and of itself.

Did she need his help right now? Absolutely. Was he going to go to whatever lengths to help her? Without question. But what she wasn’t asking for that seemed to go hand in hand for so many women was the need to be pitied and coddled along the way. It wasn’t that Jean was sexist in this summation. But no very few men had ever been foolish enough to snivel up to him asking his to kiss boos or hold their hand. Regardless Rebecca was making no such requests from him now. And to his memory she never had. She had been shot and nearly died once and he could still recall a moment when he had to be resolute in the face of her stubbornness then. And that was the woman who mental gears he felt her could hear turning all the way from across the room. The brilliant, capable, stubborn creature who, for reasons he had never fully understood, stooped herself to love a man as flawed as he was so much so that he was incapable of anything but loving her in return—

“I’ll have the name tomorrow night,” she pronounced so suddenly it snapped Jean out of his mental evaluation of all the things about her that matter more to him than this particular and mildly annoying situation in which they currently found themselves. He blinked slowly allowing himself to return to the present conversation and digest what she had said. Tomorrow? The word seemed to catch sideways in his mind and hang there. ”Trust me?” she said was she passed back his newly refilled glass and reseated herself on the couch.

Jean hesitated. Jean never hesitated.

He stared down into the amber depths of his drink for a long quiet moment. This was one of those moments he’d heard about. He wasn’t certain that he could ever remember enduring one but he knew they occurred in most ‘normal’ relationships. Which it suddenly seemed was something they were subject to…. How delightful. On the one hand there was the fact that did of course trust her. That was beyond question. On the other hand she was talking about hunting down someone on the Dark Net. He had put someone on the job months ago when he had first gotten the offer. Though anonymity was the sacred trust in his game, Jean had always felt that when getting into bed with a man like himself it should be assumed there was no such thing as mutual respect. It was the whole lack of honor among thieves standard. But in this particular case and her declaration that she could come up with the answer that he couldn’t in a day… This was that proverbial rock and a hard place.

Jean hung his head for a moment and glanced up at her sheepishly with a small grin. “Of course I trust you,” he assured in as charming a tone as he could muster. “But perhaps you can forgive me for being a bit cynically skeptical in my old age. I’m sure,” he said reaching out to put his hand on her knee, “that tomorrow I will be humbly wowed. So you do whatever you need to do and if, if it doesn’t pan out perhaps we could brainstorm some ideas together….” It wasn’t pleading it was gently suggesting in a hopeful tone. That was about as close to pleading as he would ever come.

Jean began to rub his hand gently along her leg, not inappropriately at first just consolingly. “Because at the end of the day that is all I truly want. We both tried handling this in our own ways separetly and I think we can agree that it did not go well.” His sheepish smile faded towards mischief as his hand on her leg ventured further in return. “From here on I just want us to be in this together. One hundred percent. I have no judgement for your leaving—we both know I’ve pulled my own disappearing acts,” his tone became quieter more like a shared confidence than a discussion. “And one of the best parts of what we have between us is that time can’t touch it. Together or apart it doesn’t change what’s here. But,” he leaned his hand in closer and ran his other hand through her hair on the other side of her face, “when we are together we have the ability to be great. To be unstoppable….” He whispered the last words directly into her ear and as their echo died tipped his chin to place a soft kiss on her neck just below the lobe.

“And besides,” he said in nearly a breathless whisper, “all that tracking business is something to worry about tomorrow.” Between words he trailed his first kiss with others that moved on down her soft delicate neck toward her shoulder. “Tonight all we need to worry about is you. Tending to your needs….” The long fingers of his hand traced up on her hip, leaving his thumb to grip the top of her thigh lightly. “You’ve been through and ordeal and I can’t relax properly until I know that you are taken care of.” He leaned back slightly into his space so that he could see her face clearly. “I think that’s going to require a far more thorough examination…” he suggested. He paused until he saw the unspoken agreement of what their deep understanding knew he was suggesting spark in her eyes and curl in her smile. Given the permission he quickly slid both hand underneath her and pulled her strongly towards as he stood from the coffee table pulling him up into his arm, her legs wrapped around him, as he took the requisite examination down the hall to the bedroom where he could properly exhaustive.




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