Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Into this web you will crawl.

Ever ignoring, every warning 'cause you, you want it all."

(Delphine's P.O.V.)

The plane touched down on the ground with a loud skid, startling me awake, and I realized my mix-tape was still playing.  Bon Jovi's "Living on a Prayer" blasted through my headphones, and I sleepily switched it off.  

"Alright everybody, we've reached our designated airport: Royal Air Force Gatow" the too-cheery flight attendant announced. "Please remain in your seats until the pilot alerts me that's safe for you all to unload." The only responses she received were low grumbles and dismissive hand gestures. 

I stretched my arms and legs out, yawning loudly and feeling my energy refueling.  

"Have a nice nap Delphine?" I jumped at the question, momentarily forgetting about the German lady who'd been sitting next to me during the trip.  

"Es tut uns leid, I'm sorry" the woman, whose name was Greta, apologized.

"No no Greta, you're good. I'm just still half-sleep" I said.  Greta nodded and went back to her knitting project.  She'd been pleasant company on the trip from Paris to Germany.  I found out she'd been in Paris visiting her adult son Albert, whose was at university there, and now she was coming home to her family back in Frankfurt, and her husband was picking her up at RAF.  Naturally she'd asked me about my reasoning for being on this particular flight as well, but like a pro I kept it short and sweet, simply saying I was on my way to surprise a boyfriend of mine who'd been away in Berlin on business.  

"Wunderbar! Wonderful!" Greta had exclaimed. "Well I have doubt your boyfriend will be very happy to see you!" 

C'est vrai, it's true, my boyfriend would happy to see me.  That is, if I even HAD boyfriend.  I mean, I wasn't even attracted to MEN at that moment.  I am admittedly bisexual, and currently my body and mind were leading more towards the female side right now.  Though I reminded myself to push those feelings aside when I reached my intended destination.

For it was imperative that I play my part, and more importantly, PLAY IT RIGHT.  

I took my headphones off and placed them in black leather handbag, and then quickly checked to make sure everything else was in there as well.  Phone, check.  Make-up, check.  Pen and notepad, check.  Passport and I.D., check.  I grabbed my black dark-lensed sunglasses and put them on, because if there was one UNOFFICIAL thing I'd learned during my training back home, dark sunglasses were a bad-ass touch to any spy's look.  Then I found my wallet, where I took out the picture I'd put in there of my younger brother Nicolas, along with my sister-in-law Amelie and my niece Claire.  

"Who are they?" Greta asked, glancing over.

"Mon frere et sa famille"  I explained.

"Ah, your brother and his family" she translated. "They look very happy. Are you guys close?"

"Very" I replied, feeling a wave of homesickness come over me.  I thought of Nicolas, how he looked so much like me and yet his personality was the complete opposite.  He was careful and cautious, while I had a nasty habit of diving in first and then thinking about the consequences later.  My new job was a good example of such behaviors.  His wife Amelie was a kind and gentle woman who had admittedly had a bit of a temperament, but being with Nicolas and his calming nature balanced her out.  And then little 5-year-old Claire, who was the perfect combination of both parents.  Feisty and driven like her mother, while also cautious and thoughtful like her father.  She called me her Aunt Delphie, and she always loved when I came to visit.  So of course she was sad when her parents told her that Aunt Delphie was going to be away for several months as part of an important job fare she'd been offered.  However, I promised to call and write whenever I could, so that somewhat satisfied her.  She didn't know what I was doing of course; but my brother knew, and ever the protective one despite being two years younger than me, he was both fascinated and freaked out.

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into here D" Nicolas said to me when he'd come over to help me pack.  

"If that's your way of asking me not to go, then I hate to break it to you but it's too late to back out now" I said as I folded some clothes.

"I know that D, I just want to make sure you're careful" he admitted. 

"Shouldn't I be the one wanting to protect you?" I asked him with a laugh.

"Well I'm not the one who's going to be cavorting about in one of the most dangerous, most chaotic cities in Europe" he pointed out. "Besides, I think we both know YOU'RE the sibling who's always needed protecting."

His words echoed in my head as I stared at the picture.  It was true; I was always the one getting herself into nasty scrapes as a kid, scrapes that Nicolas would always find a way to get me out of.  Then he'd be the one to explain everything to our shocked, slightly amused parents.  I admired how deep his sibling loyalty ran for me, and how creative he was at coming up with perfectly-crafted stories that managed to both tell and hide the truth at the same time. 

Sometimes I wondered if Nicolas, had he not had a family to look after, would be the better suited Lasalle sibling to take on Berlin.  Although, at the same time, I knew when it all came down to it, he was much too soft for my line of work.

Granted I was soft too, but MY softness had some rough edges to it.  

I shook my head, letting go of all the plaguing thoughts.  I was here now, and I had a job to do.  Tracking and reporting, along with sleeping my way through the city to see what secrets I could uncover and send off to my superiors back in Paris.  The last part didn't exactly appeal to me, but if a spy also happened to be a beautiful woman, that tended to be her main job.  Yes I know that sounds sexist, but everyone knows that temptation is almost always the key to any good infiltration.  One just had to make sure she tempted the right people.  

"Alright passengers, we're all set to disembark!" the flight attendant announced, interrupting my thoughts. "One at a time though, please." Then she repeated the line in several more languages for the sake of the none-English speaking passengers. 

Quickly, Greta and I got all our stuff together from the baggage compartment, and managed to squeeze our way into the aisle relatively quickly.  I carefully walked down the metal steps of the plane in my stilettos, and once I reached the pavement, I sat on a bench to recover from my emerging jet-lag.  Greta sat beside me.

"Oh mein Gott" she exclaimed. "I always thought jet-lag was a myth, and as punishment it's hitting me full-force!"

I laughed at her, and it helped to drown out the lingering fears making their way into my head.  I was here; I'd arrived in Berlin.  None of the training, testing, and planning had led to this.  I really was a spy, and this really was happening.  Of course, now that I'd just set foot finally set foot inside the city, my apprehension was beginning to grow.  Berlin was treacherous and unforgiving, taking whatever it pleased whenever it wanted.  But above all, it was unpredictable, so from here on out I had NO IDEA what road my decisions would lead me down.  I was completely aware of the possibility that I could die in this city, but it never felt so real to me as it did now.  Nicolas wasn't here to save my ass this time round.

I was on my own.

"Oh my, my husband's here!" Greta announced, waving at the man who stepped out of the shiny grey Volvo that pulled up.  She tried to get up to embrace him and her legs ended up wobbling.

"Hinsetzen, Greta, sit down" her husband exclaimed with a laugh, catching her and sitting her back down on the bench. 

"Guten tag, Harald" she greeted, squeezing his hand.  Then she turned to me.  "This is Delphine, the woman who sat with me on the plane ride from Paris."

"Bonjour monsieur"  I said in my native French, shaking his free hand.

"Ah, a French lady, eh? Then you must've been wonderful company to my wife over here. She's always been fascinated by the French" Harald said.

"Well I was certainly happy to oblige her" I replied with a smile.  

"Yes Delphine, I find you to be the most excellent company" Greta gushed. "Certainly much better than my company on the voyage TO Paris.  It was this Spanish fucker who kept falling asleep on my shoulder and drooling on my shirt! Plus, talked in his sleep, saying the most vulgar things imaginable! I wasn't sure I'd make it, to be honest!"

"Dear God Greta, seriously? I should've been with you then!" Harald cried.

"You know you couldn't miss the meeting honey, it was practically a life or death situation!" Greta argued.

"Take the dramatics down a notch darling, it was more of a 'get hired or get fired' situation" he insisted.  I smiled at their dynamic, while at the same time I felt a small stab in my heart.  They reminded me of similar discussions between Nicolas and Amelie.

"Well, we better get going Greta, the kids are restless to see you" Harald said. 

"Ah yes, unsere kinder, our children!" Greta exclaimed happily.  She then turned to me.  "Au revoir, Delphine, I hope you enjoy your time here in our city.  I know it may seem overwhelming to you at first, but hang out in all the right places and I'm sure you'll be fine." 

I smiled at happily at her, appreciating that she was saying good-bye to me in French. "Au revoir, Greta, and yes, trust me, I have an idea of what places are considered right and wrong in this city." I mean, I really didn't, but she didn't need to know that.

With that, Harald and Greta headed back to their car and climbed in.  Greta and I exchanged one last wave before her husband turned the car around the round-about and headed home.  

I watched their car as it grew smaller and smaller in the distance, realizing once again that I was alone in this mission.  However, if I played my cards right, I may just find some allies who were willing to take me under their wings and show me the ropes of this complicated city.  

But for right now, as I said before, I was on my own. 

Chapter Text

"The heart is a hunter, and hard as stone.

Cold blood in the chamber, bullets hung bold." 

One week later...

(David's P.O.V.)

"So David, hear anything more reports on Satchel lately?" Gasciogne wondered.  The two of us were at the the Berghain & Panorama Bar, sitting on the balcony with drinks in our hands and watching the people dancing and conversing below us.  

"Hmm?" I replied lazily, distracted by the small flurry of hot girls who just walked into the club.

"I ate a squirrel I found dead in the road this morning" he said. That got my attention.

"WHAT?" I nearly shouted at him, my mouth agape.

"Chill Percival, I just said it to your attention" James exclaimed. 

"Jesus Christ man, DON'T fuck with me like that" I cried, letting out a breath of relief. 

"Well then do you mind actually listening to me?" he retorted.

"Sorry James, you're right, I'm listening now" I said, turning myself around so I was facing him. "What were you saying before?"

"I was wondering if you'd heard any more rumors or reports on our friend Satchel" he repeated. 

"Hardly someone I'd consider 'a friend', if you ask me" I answered, taking a sip of my scotch.

"You know what I mean David."

"Yes I do, and I'm afraid I have heard more about them" I said. "And trust me, it's nothing good."

"Nothing ever is with Satchel" he answered. "So what'd you hear?" 

"I don't know this for sure, but I heard Satchel's been seen stalking about near Frankfurt, possibly on their way to Berlin" I reported.

"To do what exactly?"

"To cause trouble no doubt. To tear apart alliances, to sell information to the highest bidders, to stir the abnormally large pot."

"Mmm, most likely." Suddenly, we were both interrupted by the bartender, whose name I hadn't cared enough to remember.

"There's someone on the phone looking for a James Gasciogne. Some chick who calls herself L.B." 

"Oh yes, I know who that is" James said. "Thanks Mathias." Oh, so THAT was his name.  He looked more like a Carl or a Calvin to me.

"Sorry David I gotta take this, I'll be right back, okay?" Without waiting for a reply, he took the phone from Mathias's hand and went into the back to speak to "L.B.".

Which we both knew stood for Lorraine Broughton.

She was another British spy, like us, and James had met her four weeks ago when they'd been partnered together for a case involving a drug lord and a bomb set to go off in London.  Originally I had assumed it be like any other case my man James took on, but unfortunately, their partnership began to expand PAST the case.  James began to see more and more of her outside of work, and less and less of me.  In the beginning he never explicitly told where he went, just telling me he couldn't make it whenever I suggested we go out for drinks or find ourselves a good party to crash.  Of course, he seemed to forget that as a spy it was MY FUCKING JOB to uncover what people were hiding.  So one time, I expertly followed him from the apartment he was renting in Berlin to see where he was headed, and I was shocked by what I saw.

He and Lorraine at club together, one of the clubs HE AND I would go to.  They were sitting at the bar together, having drinks and talking like two totally normal who WEREN'T spies.  She was tall, blonde, and a whole lotta muscle.  I knew immediately that she had to be Gasciogne's partner from the last mission, because NO WAY did he ever open himself up to a woman he didn't already know.  It was one of the many things I'd come to learn from him.  

Of course, another thing I'd come to learn from James: sometimes, despite how closed off he'd made himself for the sake of the job, he so desperately yearned for some semblance of a normal human connection that he'd go to great lengths to find it.  

Though I understood his feelings, I'd never say this to his face but I always feared that that feeling would eventually get him gunned down at some point.  And I wouldn't be there to save his ass.  

I smiled to myself.  Sometimes it amazed me that I still had the ability to care, even after all the shit I'd been put through in this business.  But James so different.  Though I only had a year on him in terms of our lengths of time in the business, I couldn't stop myself from feeling protective of him.  At first I'd rejected the idea of working alongside him while we were stationed in Berlin, because Eric Gray and his cohorts KNEW I was the type were preferred to do my own thing.  But like the controlling fucker he was, he insisted James and I work together, claiming I was like "a faulty electrical wire that needed to be kept in check".  Naturally it was just a lame excuse to enforce our partnership, but since he was still one of my bosses I had no choice but to comply.  However, much to my surprise, it worked out much better than I had initially anticipated.  His strong will and good nature appealed to me, and unlike so many others, he'd managed to chisel away at my hardened exterior and find that I still had a heart underneath.  

But even at that point I was hesitant to consider him "my friend." 'Cause everyone knows that in this business, once you start letting people in, and give them labels like "friend" or "lover", an invisible target appears on their backs almost immediately.  Eventually though, I was able to convince myself that it was okay, because James was a spy too.  He already knew how the game worked, and I tried to support and have faith in every decision he made.

Except when it came to Lorraine Broughton.

Two weeks ago I grew tired of his keeping their new relationship a secret, and I demanded he tell me what he was up to.  He relented, and explained to me everything I already knew about him and Lorraine.  Oddly enough, our discussions about her after that often mirrored a concerned parent and their insistent teenage daughter.  James kept trying to convince me that I would like Lorraine once I got to know her, saying all these things about wonderful she was and how she could be trusted.  I, on the other hand, told him over and over again to not open himself up so easily, because that was a one-way ticket to getting himself betrayed one day, or worse; I also told him how my instincts told me she wasn't to be trusted and that this wasn't going to end well for either of them.  He only laughed and shook his head at that.

"Oh Percy" he said, using the annoying pet nickname he'd developed for whenever he wanted to make fun of me, "your instincts ARE always saying that people can't be trusted."

"No they're not!" I retorted in a five-year-old like fashion. "They didn't say that about you, and look where we are now!" He gave in on that one, and finally ended the conversation by saying that HE trusted her and that's what mattered.

The truth was, I didn't need to meet Lorraine to know she wouldn't be good enough for James.  There were hardly any PEOPLE, let alone spies, like him anymore.  The Cold War did just that; it turned people cold, in many different ways and for many different reasons.  I was one of them, and I'd been turned because my job became my life and I realized that not caring about people made things a whole hell of a lot easier.  Besides James, I never tried to connect with people, and my connection with him had been somewhat of an uncontrollable accident.  I never dated; the closest I ever was with women was whenever I needed a good shag to get my manly urges under control.  So unlike James, who was determined to not let the horrors of war or the limitations of the job change him and his life.  Whenever he wasn't on assignment, he managed to find ways to live somewhat of a normal life.  He still held secret dreams of having a happy family someday, with a loving wife to come home to and rambunctious little children running in to greet him with huge smiles on their faces.  Though he knew there was a VERY slim chance of that ever happening, what mattered was that he still had the strength and willpower to dream about that kind of stuff.  It was one of the things that kept him moving and not succumbing to the pressures of the job.

I just slightly envied him for it.  Again, only slightly.

"Hey man, I'm back!" James announced, interrupting my thoughts as he returned to his original seat beside him.

"So how's the old bitch doing?" I wondered.

He rolled his eyes. "She's fine, thank you for asking.  She's actually in Belgium right now working on..."

"No, James, I don't actually care, I just wanted to call her a bitch" I explained with a mischevious smile.

"Of course you did" James replied with sigh, shaking his head. 

"Hey man, you already know I feel about your relationship with L.B., and I still stand by it" I pointed out.

"I know you did David, and believe me, I stand by my words as well." With that, we fell silent and went back to observing the club patrons below us.  

"Hey, have we ever seen HER before?" James asked, pointing to down below.  I followed his finger and it rested on a young woman around our age.  She looked Egyptian, with long black hair and caramel brown skin.  She was dressed in a short maroon dress with no straps and somewhat of a bulging chest, and decorative sandals.  She seemed to be trying to solicit one of the security guards standing guard at one of the back entrances to the club, and she was pointing towards one of the corners where James and I couldn't see.  

"No way, I definitely remember seeing someone who looks and is dressed like THAT, for sure" I said.

"You think she's in trouble? She looks scared" James observed.

"Nah, I wouldn't worry about it" I said. "Besides, saving random damsels in distress is not in our department. I mean what do you think we are, the Avengers?"

"No David, but if that woman needs help, we should provide it instead of choosing to sit idly by and watch" he explained.  Then he gasped. "Shit, she just went out the back and I think she's being followed, now's our chance!" 

"Ugh, fine, whatever you say James" I relented. "You wanna play superhero? Fine, we'll play superheroes, but only for ten minutes, tops." We paid for our drinks and then we went downstairs to follow the mysterious lady outside (after a few minutes of convincing the security guard to let us out that way). 

"I don't see anything James, we should go back..." I started, but then a woman's shout for help interrupted us.

"This way!" he exclaimed, and I followed him down a dark alley located off the side of us.

"I hope you know what you're doing James, because you know nothing good ever happens in dark alleys like these" I said.

"Stop complaining Percy and just keep moving!" he called over his shoulder and his use of my stupid nickname propelled me to go faster.  Finally, we arrived at a scene where the woman's face was against a brick wall and three men were holding her down.  Well shit, I guess she WAS in need of assistance.

"Hey fuckers!" I shouted. "Why don't you all pick on someone your own size, yeah?"

"Piss off you British scum" the burliest of the men slurred in his German accent. 

"Hey that wasn't very nice, that's my friend you're talking to!" James retorted. "So why don't why we settle this like normal people and just talk it out, shall we?" 

The men let go of the lady and through her to the ground, hard. "You want to talk this out, like, how'd you say it, like normal people? Well, hate to break it to you fuckers, but since this War's started nothing can be considered NORMAL anymore" the leader snapped.

"True, very true, but that doesn't give you the right to attack that lady over there" I said. 

"You talk too much" the leader growled at me. "Get out of here before we kick your British asses."

"Actually, things have been a little too quiet lately, so an ass-kicking actually sounds really nice" I replied. "However, it WON'T be our asses that get kicked tonight."

The final straw.  The three of them ran at us at full speed, but they were no match for our sharp spy skills.  Within minutes, they were all lying on the ground, barely conscious, and James and I escaped with only a few scratches.

"Should've just talked it out" James said to them and we went over to the horrified woman's aid.

"Holy...holy shit...did you two really just take down those guys...all on your own?" she asked, and from her accent we were easily able to discern that she was French.

"We sure as hell did" James exclaimed.

"We don't like to brag, but we're pretty bad-ass, both on our own and when we work together" I said and that got a small smile out of her.

"Here, let me help you" James said, taking her hands and helping her to her feet. "What's your name?"

"Delphine" she answered quietly. "And you two?"

"I'm James" he replied "and that's David." I gave her a little wave.

"Thank you for your help James and David, but I think I've taken up enough of your time. I should go now" she said, wiping dirt off of her dress.

"No way, you should definitely not be alone after that, especially since those guys will no doubt wake up soon" James said. "Why do you stick with us for a while? And then let US take you home."

My head whipped at that and I quickly pulled him aside.

"Um, Gasciogne? Hate to break it to you, but taking in strays is NOT our department" I muttered to him.

"Oh come on David, what's the harm? It's only for a couple of hours."

"Yeah, and A LOT can happen in those couple of hours."

"Yes I understand that, but nobody said we couldn't do this nice thing for her and be on guard at the same time, right?"

I sighed. "Whatever James, I guess you have a point. But if this ends badly, then remember it was YOUR idea."

"Wonderful!" he said, loud enough for Delphine to hear.  Then he turned to her.

"It's settled, you'll stay with us until you're ready to go home, and we'll drive you back!" he announced.

"Oh, thank you, but you really don't have to" she says.

"No, we don't, but we INSIST. Don't we, David?" he asked me, giving me a knowing look. 

"Yes, yes we do."

Chapter Text

"The song of the siren, a moth to the flame.

Do you live for the poison? Then forget my name."

(Delphine's P.O.V.)

"It's settled, you'll stay with us until you're ready to go home, and we'll drive you back!" Gasciogne announced.

"Oh, thank you, but you really don't have to" I said, looking back and forth between the two men.

"No, we don't, but we INSIST. Don't we, David?" he asked David, turning to him. 

"Yes, yes we do" he answered, though he looked less than pleased about it.  

Honestly, I didn't blame him.  No doubt these two were having a pleasant evening before I showed up, and now he was being forced to baby-sit.  Of course, for me at least, I was in an incredibly lucky position.

As I followed to two men out of the alley and past the unconscious bodies of my attackers, I couldn't help but feel giddy inside.  The odds of my crossing paths with James Gasciogne and David Percival, two of England's top spies, simply by chance and without any meticulous planning was zero to none, and yet here I was.  Originally I'd come to the club just to understand and integrate myself into Berlin's night life, and everything had been going quite smoothly, until I was spotted by les hooligans eager to take advantage of an unsuspecting young bystander, and then chased out into this alley.  I fought as hard as I could but it didn't take long for them to subdue me, and I thought for sure I was dead meat, until Gasciogne and Percival showed up and saved my ass, like something out of an action movie.

They led me out to their car and I climbed into the back while Gasciogne took the driver's seat and Percival claimed shotgun. 

"So, Delphine, how long have you been here?" Gasciogne asked as soon as we were on the road.

"A few weeks" I lied.

"Mmm, and what brings you here? If you don't mind my asking."

"Business trip" I said, since obviously the boyfriend act wouldn't work in this situation.

"Mmm, and what exactly would that business be?" Percival inquired.

"Percy! Don't be rude" Gasciogne chastised, and I couldn't help but a crack a smile at the childish-sounding nickname. "I'm sorry Delphine, my friend's had a little too much to drink tonight."

"Oh please James, we all know I'm dead sober, because if I wasn't, I wouldn't have been able to fight those guys back there" Percival retorted.

"Meh, I've seen you manage a lot of crazy shit even when you're totally hammered" Gasciogne pointed out. "Shall I recount the ones I have in mind to our guest?"

Percival took the hint. "I'd rather you didn't, thank you. So point taken, alright?"

I smiled again as I listened to their banter.  They sounded like two ten-year-old boys who liked to poke fun at each other just for the sake of it, but they knew neither one would take offense because they knew and cared that much for each other.  

That kind of bond was VERY hard to forge with people these days.  And honestly, I found it kind of sweet.

We drive in silence for a while, until Gasciogne piped up again.

"Where we should go, David? My place or yours?" he asked.

"Definitely yours" Percival muttered.

"Not surprised." With that, he made a sharp right turn and continued on a darkened street until we pulled into a parking garage.

"So, what exactly is the plan here?" I asked.

"Like I said, stick with us for awhile so we can make sure you'll alright, and then we'll take you home later once you're good" Gasciogne explained. 

"Uh, okay...whatever" I said, playing the role of the cautious female realizing she'd just allowed herself to be picked up by two strange men.  Granted, even though I knew I was safe with James and David, I couldn't let them know that I knew that.

I followed the two of them through the garage and across the street to the apartment building Gasciogne was living.  They led me upstairs and Gasciogne pulled out his keys and unlocked.

"After you" he said.

"Oh thanks man" Percival said, pushing past me and making himself at home in the living room.  Gasciogne rolled his eyes.

"After you" he repeated  with a smile.

"Thank you" I replied with a smile, heading inside and immediately I was greeted with the scent of a newly lit cigarette, no doubt lit by Percival.  The place looked and felt very inviting.  The walls were a pale blue, and paintings and signs adorned many of the walls.  The living room and kitchen were spotless, not an object out of place nor a mess in sight.  Gasciogne flipped a switch in the living room and a gas fireplace came to life.  Then he went into the kitchen.

"Coffee, anyone?" he wondered.

"Nah, I'm good" Percival called from his spot on the leather couch.

"I'll have some, thanks" I accepted.  Then I felt my spy instincts kick in, reminding me what I really SHOULD be doing right now. "You mind telling me where your bathroom is?"

"Oh my, where are my manners?" Gasciogne asked, shaking his head. "Yeah, go straight ahead, turn right, and it's at the end of the hall."

"Thanks" I said again.  I followed his direction, and once I was in the hallway, I checked to make sure neither he nor Percival had followed me.  Then I began trying all the doors in the hallway until I found what I assumed to be his bedroom.  I quietly slipped inside and glanced around.  His bedroom was just as neat as the kitchen and living room.  The bed was neatly made, the books on his bookshelf stood ramrod straight, all the papers and items on his desk were stacked and organized.  I had a feeling that, knowing Gasciogne, he kept everything so tidy so he could easily tell if someone had come traipsing through looking for something.

Someone like me, for example.

I knew it was risky, but I had to least TRY and find something of use.  So as carefully as I could, I began looking through the papers in his desk drawers, in hopes of finding something on that shady Satchel character, for instance.  I found a few things about past assignments, some written observations on the current state of Berlin, along with letters from James's family.  Speaking of letters, I suddenly came across something VERY interesting.  It was addressed to Gasciogne, from someone with the initials L.B., dated only a three days ago.

Dear J.G., 

How are you? I hate being away from you, because I don't know if you're safe or not.  At least when we're together I can keep an eye on you and I know that you're okay.  I know, I know, I'm being silly, you can handle yourself.  But since we've been together, I can't help but feel somewhat protective of you, and I have no doubt that you feel the same way about me.  It just comes with the job, I guess, when one mixes business with pleasure.  Especially in our department.  I'm doing pretty well, although that bastard Eric Gray continues to get on my nerves.  Ha, I can already hear you now telling me to take deep breaths and not to think so ill of one of our superiors, though I'll admit it's difficult when WE'RE the ones who do all the heavy-lifting around here and men like Gray still think they can control us like puppets on strings.  Anyway, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, about us going astray one day, just you and me.  You KNOW that they'd catch us J, and we'd be wanted fugitives.  But at the same time, I do understand where you're coming from, and I can't help but imagine what life outside of all the bloodshed and espionage would be like.  And if I wanted to make those thoughts a reality with ANYONE, it would be you James Gasciogne.  I hope you're happy with my answer, because I think it's a pretty fair one.  I'll see you soon my dear.

Yours Truly,

L.B.

Wait, Gasciogne was considering going astray, and with a fellow spy? Now that WAS news!  Eagerly, I folded the lettered into my hands, imagining the excitement and praise I'd receive from my superiors when I told them the news.  

But almost as soon as I finished stuffing the letter into my purse, I yelped as I felt someone grab me from behind, spin me around and then pin me to the bed.  I winced as I felt the barrel of a gun against the back of my head.

"Try anything, and I mean ANYTHING, and you're history" Percival growled in my ear.  I heard myself whimper quietly, realizing I'd been caught.

"David? What have you done now?" Gasciogne asked, walking up to the doorway from the hallway.  

"I just saved you from being exposed, that's what I've done" he answered.

"Holy...oh my god! What the HELL is going on here?" Gasciogne cried, seeing the compromising position Percival and I were in.

"I caught this bitch looking through your things, James, just as I predicted she would" Percival explained. "I told you she couldn't be trusted, and here's the proof.  The whole attack was a set-up so we would rescue her and she could collect intel on us."

"No, no! That's not at all what happened!" I cried.

"And why on Earth should we believe you?" he snapped, pressing the gun closer to my head.

"Percy, please, get off her and let her explain" Gasciogne ordered.  Grumbling, he relented but kept the gun pointed at me as he went to sit down in the desk chair. "Okay Delphine, if that's even your real name, tell us: who are you, really?" 

I sat up ramrod straight and tried to keep my focus on Gasciogne, though I could feel the heat of Percival's gaze boring into the side of my head.

"My name is Delphine Lasalle, and I am indeed a spy, like you two.  I was sent here by the French organization to collect any intel I could about this Satchel character everyone's been talking about, or even better, see if the rumors about this supposed 'List' are true.  And yes, I already know who you two are.  You're James Gasciogne and David Percival, two of Britain's top MI-6 agents.  But no, my being at the club tonight WAS not planned.  I had no idea you guys were there, and that attack was NOT fake.  That was the real thing, those German scumbags really WERE trying to take advantage of me.  So us meeting today was purely luck.  And I'm sorry Gasciogne, I didn't WANT to use you like this and take advantage of your hospitality like this, but I have to remember who I am, and that is a spy.  I momentarily forgot who I was for a while there, and even though my mind fought against it, I made the decision to come looking through your things to see if I could find anything of use to me and my superiors."

"And did you?" Gasciogne asked. "Find anything of use, I mean?"

"No" I said simply.  He gave me a knowing look but didn't say anything, and I knew we would revisit this topic once Percival was out of the room.

"Oh puh-lease, this bitch is clearly bullshitting us" Percival exclaimed. "Spies don't meet other spies simply by COINCIDENCE.  In fact, NOTHING in our line of work happens by coincidence.  As far as we know, that word is non-existent in our language.  It's all about planning and devising and scheming your way through the system to get what you want." 

"Well I believe her" Gasciogne said. "There was no way that attack was faked.  I saw the fear in her eyes, it was genuine, and those guys meant business.  So please, David, put the gun down and chill out." Percival did what he was told, but his eyes continued to shoot daggers at me.

"So, I'm guessing you're going to turn me in and expose me now?" I asked nervously.

"No" Gasciogne answered.

"No?" Percival and I both repeated.

"Why should I? You clearly pose no threat to us, and like you said, our meeting was completely unintentional" he explained. "Besides, I see you as much like Percival and I were when we first came to this city.  You're just doing what you can to try and survive, but at the same time, you're somewhat naive and hotheaded, which could get you into trouble in the future.  No offense of course.  Anyway, we had to learn the hard way how this hellhole of a city works, but you my friend, you could learn a thing or two from us on how to stay alive. I mean, only if you CHOOSE to stick with us."

"Do...do you really mean that?" I asked.

"Really, really" he said.

"Well that's just fucking great, look at us now" Percival exclaimed, getting up. "David Percival and James Gasciogne, spies by day, baby-sitters by night."

"Je ne suis pas une bébé,"  I muttered in French.

"Yeah Percy, quit being such a drama queen" Gasciogne exclaimed.

"Whatever James, knock yourself out here, but leave ME out of it" he replied irritably. "Now I'm going to take you up on your offer of coffee from earlier and drown myself in it so I can forget that LAST conversation ever happened." With that, he sauntered out the room.

"You must forgive him Delphine, he's not much a people person" Gasciogne apologized. "He keeps to himself unless the job demands it, and I'm the only person he's ever allowed in.  Even then, though, he was very hesitant about it.  But believe me, despite his tough as nails, no-nonsense exterior, he really is a good man."

"I'm sure he is...somewhere" I agreed.  Now granted, from what I'd learnt about these two during training, I kind of expected Percival's treatment of me.  He was well-known not just for his skills and smarts, but his attitude and ever-growing connections and alliances also held somewhat of a reputation.  Gasciogne was practically his polar opposite, a man devoted to his work but who still dreamed of life outside of the job.  Smart and strong as well, but unlike Percival, he hadn't let his heart of gold turn to stone just yet.  They were like night and day, those two.  Because despite their differences, they worked so well together and somehow always ended up on the same side of things.

"Anyway," Gasciogne started, pulling me away from my thoughts, "back to you looking through my things earlier.  You and I both know you've been holding onto something of mine this whole time, so if you please, just hand over."

Sighing, I fished the folded letter out of my purse and placed it in his waiting hand.  He unfolded it and gasped quietly, realizing what it was I'd hope to expose.

"Is it true?" I asked cautiously. "Are you really considering...going astray?" The words fell forbidden and dirty on my tongue, even though they had nothing to do with me.

He sighed. "It's not like I want to be doing this for rest of my life, Delphine."

"You're avoiding the question" I whispered.

"Yes, I know, it's just...difficult to admit" he said sadly. "But yes I've...thought about it."

"And am I correct to assume you'd being doing it with this, this L.B.?" I wondered and he nodded.

"She's exactly what I've been looking for" he said. "As I'm sure you've learned, I desire more outside of this life.  When the war's over, I want to settle down one day; maybe get married at some point and have kids with a woman who loves me for me.  And L.B. does exactly that.  I'm sure it helps that she knows what I'm going through, but I really do imagine a future for the two of us, and according to this letter, she feels the same way.  Of course, she DOES have a point about the repercussions that would arise from our actions." He sounded almost..sad.

"Does Percival know about this?" I dared to ask.

"No, and he never will, especially since it probably won't even happen" Gasciogne answered urgently, and then his eyes met mine. "That's why I need you to promise me Delphine, that you won't breathe a word of this to ANYBODY. Not Percival, not your superiors, NO ONE.  There's no use stirring up rumors about it, and I don't need Percival or my bosses on my back watching me like hawks."

"You have my word Gasciogne" I promised. "But why? Why believe me?"

"Because like I said Delphine, you remind me of me and David when we first arrived here in Berlin early on in our careers" he replied. "And because of that, I've made the decision to trust and help you.  But in order to do so I need YOU to help ME by keeping all of this a secret.  You think you can do that?"

"Yes, because I'm a spy, and that's what we do best right? Keep secrets?" I exclaimed.

"You could say that" he said with a laugh. "And please, call me James."

"Okay...James" I said, smiling.  With that, he tucked the letter into his pants pocket and we headed back into the living room where Percival had returned to his seat on the couch.

"At last, they emerge" Percival announced. "You two took so long in there I thought you might be making use of some of the furniture, if you know what I mean."

"Gross Percy, must you always be so dirty-minded?" Gasciogne asked, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, especially when those around me deserve it" he answered unapologetically, a mischievous smile on his face.  Percival smiling, not something one saw too often unless you were either Gasciogne, the woman he was fucking, or the enemy he was killing.  

"Whatever you say man" Gasciogne said, shaking his head.  I passed by Percival on the way to the kitchen and I suddenly felt his hand shoot out and grab my wrist.

"If you were smart, Delphine Lasalle, since you live for this life you've chosen, you'd forget we ever met" he muttered.  I wrenched my hand away, doing my best to keep the fear from showing on my face, and turned back to Gasciogne, who was pouring the freshly brewed coffee into three separate mugs.

So it was clear Percival didn't trust me, but I had HIS trust at the very least.

I could live that, for right now. 

Chapter Text

" This life is but diamonds and rust.

You may find my smile deceitful, but after it all

Who else can you trust?"

(Delphine's P.O.V. cont'd)

Monochromatic buildings and shadowy figures of pedestrians passed by me in a blur, and they watched in awe as I zipped past them without a care.  The whipped through my loose black curls, and my grip tightened on the handlebars of my copper-colored bike as I wound my way through the streets of Berlin. 

I'd never tired of this; this feeling of freedom that came with riding my motorcycle.  Like it was just me and road; nothing more and nothing less. 

I was coming back from my latest meeting with James Gascoigne.  Today was the fifth meeting we'd had since our first encounter two weeks ago, and this time round he showed me all the best places in Berlin to properly collect intel; places where if you asked questions you could actually expect some answers.  Honestly, it still amazed me even now that Gascoigne was so willing to help me out.  I knew part of it must've stemmed from my keeping his "dealings" with L.B. on quiet, but at the same time, most of it was simply out of the goodness of his still-intact heart.  It certainly felt good knowing I was forming an ally in all of this, even if it was only on occasion.

As much as he WANTED our meetings to be more often, the duties and his commitment to his mission were first and foremost.  Plus, his bosses didn't know about "his little side project", and he needed to keep it a secret from them.  Because it'd be one thing if I were a fellow British spy, but I wasn't, so to them they'd think Gascoigne was helping the competition (we may be Allied, but the French want the List just as badly).  And then there was the whole "trust issues" dilemma and fear of future betrayal, and neither one of us wanted to deal with that again.  It was enough that David Percival didn't trust me, and he made that quite obvious.

I hadn't seen him since the debacle at Gascoigne's apartment.  Even though he made it sound like they'd BOTH be helping me, his friend hadn't bothered to show up to any of the meetings.  It was painfully obvious why too.  There was no trust on his end whatsoever for one thing, and no matter how Gascoigne tried to spin it, Percival saw this as nothing but a co-parenting gig to a some feisty baby-agent, and he wanted no part of it.  Oh well, because even if he DID agree to do it (for Gascoigne's sake rather than mine), he would be watching me like a fucking hawk, and I didn't need that.  I didn't need him AT ALL, frankly.  Percival may trust me as much as a mouse trusts a cat, but I knew had Gascoigne's trust at least.  That was all that mattered right now.

At last I reached my building, and I parked my motorcycle in the covered parking lot.  I walked in through the revolving doors and all of my negative thoughts immediately went away when I saw who was waiting for me.

"Bonjour, Delphine!" Heinrich the doorman called out to me cheerfully. "How was your day today?"

"Guten tag, Heinrich," I responded, adjusting my helmet under my arm. "Fine, thank you; I went out riding and met up with an old friend today.  How about you?"

"Better now that I get to see your lovely face," Heinrich chirped. "It can brighten up anyone's day, but it ESPECIALLY does with mine."

"Oh Heinrich, you rascal," I said with a laugh. "Tu es tres dangereux." Heinrich was thirty, a few years younger than me, and he held somewhat of a reputation in the building.  He was known for frequently hitting on the (single) female tenants; not in a perverted way, in a friendly and playful sort of way.  He said it kept his job interesting, and most of us found his advances flattering and endearing, so we made no attempts to stop him.

"Dangerous, am I?" Heinrich asked, smirking. "Does that mean you want to know more?"

"Ha ha no, not right now," I exclaimed. "By the way, did any mail come in for me today?"

"Nope, but trust me, I keep a close watch, especially for you Delphine," he said.

I laughed again. "Thanks Heinrich, I'll see you later, alright?"

"You better!" he called after me as I headed onto an open elevator.  Within minutes, I reached the fourth floor and then I headed down to the front door of my flat, unlocking it and stepping inside. 

I immediately felt a sense of comfort as soon as I stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind me.  The apartment had been chosen for me by the French Intelligence, but I personalized it so it felt like home.  Especially the bedroom.  I stepped through the long beaded strings that served as curtains, and I sat down on the indigo velvet comforter that I picked out myself.  In fact, the whole room held many of my own personal touches.  The black and white zigzag curtains, the emerald green and gold carpet, and the white throw pillows covered in random bars of music notes were my personal favorites in terms of the furniture.  On the walls, I had posters of my favorite musicians: NeNa, New Order, Depeche Mode, 'Til Tuesday, etc.  I also brought over four small paintings from home: the Eiffel Tower all lit up at night being reflected on Seine, a sunset over the mountains, a close-up of a purple blooming orchid, and an abstract painting representing a beating heart painted in an array of different colors. 

Yes, I know, this place is my headquarters so to speak, not my college dorm room.  But if I was going to have to live here for the next few months, I wanted it to be comfortable and feel like a home away from home, so that meant decorating it in a way that suited my personality.  Sue me.

I placed my helmet on my bed, eager to take minute to just relax and unwind from the day's events.  And what better way to do that then to reminisce and think about my family back home?  I checked my telephone, but neither Nicolas nor his folks had left me a message.  I was disappointed, but not surprised.  They probably thought I was on the job and they didn't want to disturb me while I was "in the zone." Oh well.  Shrugging, I reached over towards the nightstand to grab the framed photo I kept of the four of us.  It was a black and white picture of us posing in front of the Louvre.  We'd gone to show the museum to mini artist-in-training Claire a few months ago, and I still remember the look of awe and wonder on her face when we first stepped inside.  I laughed to myself; yes a nice trip down memory lane would do the trick.  However, I felt myself frown when I noticed that I was just grabbing air.  I turned and gasped.

The picture was gone.  Then, just as I realized, the recognizable stench of cigarette smoke wafted into my room.

I hadn't lit any fresh cigarettes.

Feeling the hair on the back of my neck begin to stand on end, I slowly reached for the knife I kept under my pillow, and checked my coat pocket to ensure my gun was still there.  Assured that it was, I carefully made my way out of the room and towards the living room. 

The living room and adjoining kitchen were dark, and I gasped when I saw that the French doors that led out to my private balcony were wide open.  The wind was blowing the sheer curtains that normally covered them, and I realized the stench of smoke had gotten stronger.

"Bonsoir Delphine, comment allez-vous? " a smooth-talking British voice suddenly called out from the corner.  I jumped in horror, and that's when the voice's owner flicked on the art nouveau lamp sitting beside him, and his face was awash with multi-colored lights as he smirked at me.

"David Percival?!" I exclaimed.

"The one and only, as I far as I know," he replied, blowing smoke towards me.  I felt myself relax a little but I remained on my guard.

"What the HELL are you doing here?" I demanded. "And HOW did you get in here for that matter?"

"I've been in Berlin a long time Delphine, so you think by now I'd have learned my way around this city," Percival said. "Plus, as an added bonus, I know how to break into places undetected."

"And how exactly DID you get in here?" I asked. "Scale the side of building and come in through my balcony?"

He scoffed. "I'm a spy Delphine, NOT fucking Spider-Man," he said.  "It was easy, really.  I just waltzed in through the front entryway downstairs, took the elevator up here, and picked the lock.  It's not like I was breaking into the Pentagon, just a basic break-in and wait until you got home.  Though I was on your balcony for a bit I'll admit, because I noticed that you left them unlocked when you left."

"Crap," I muttered, feeling stupid for a moment before returning to the issue at hand. "You still haven't told me why you're here."

"Ah yes," Percival started, putting his cigarette out in the ashtray beside him. "You see, I have a problem Delphine, and you're an annoyingly big part of it.  See, ever since YOU showed up, my dear friend Gascoigne has felt that need to take you under his wing like you're a helpless child.  He's losing focus on the more IMPORTANT issues at hand, and you're the one who's distracting him from it."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "What does it matter to you?" I asked. "You've chosen to take no part in it, so why should it matter? And just letting you know, Gascoigne was really disappointed that you haven't been showing up, because he was really hoping you two would do this thing together."

"He got over it, didn't he?" he wondered. "And besides, it DOES still matter to me because Gascoigne is my partner, and as partners it's up to us to protect each other and have one another's backs.  However, Gascoigne has always been one to make somewhat rash decisions, and wanting to help you is one of them.  I don't know what your intentions are, but I do know, that if I don't intervene, James is going to get thrown off of his game at some point soon helping you and he'll wind up with a bullet in his skull."

"Oh for goodness sake," I exclaimed, not believing what I was hearing. "First of all, Gascoigne is a grown man who can make his own decisions.  Secondly, I already TOLD you what all of my intentions were and why I'm here in Berlin.  I have no alterior motives whatsoever, and it's annoying that you haven't gotten that through your head yet."

"How am I supposed to know? I can't read your mind Delphine, so who knows what your intentions are," he pointed out. "You've just told me part of it.  And in terms of James, excuse me if I'm trying to protect him from succumbing to his own weaknesses."

I gasped. "So THAT'S what this is about," I said. "You think that by helping me, Gascoigne is showing weakness."

"James has always been the type to crave human connection and somewhat of a normal life, and when you wandered into the picture, he jumped at the chance to help you," Percival said irritably. "It gives him the chance to forget about his duties and pretend to be someone else for a while.  And it's that kind of thinking the punctures a hole in a spy's defense shields, giving their enemies enough room to shoot a bullet through."

"Hmm, it all makes sense now doesn't it?" I asked him. "You're trying to protect him from making the same mistakes you did, since I know that you must know all of this from experience."

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"While I was doing research back in Paris and reading your files, I found this particularly intriguing story from a couple years back, while you and Gascoigne were still in the early stages of your friendship.  According to the story, you'd met this woman at a bar, and you were immediately infatuated with her.  Gascoigne though, who was there with you, had his suspicions about her and tried to warn you to stay away from her.  But as hotheaded as you are, you wouldn't listen and attributed his fears to petty jealousy.  You took her home, but unfortunately, as soon as you let your guard down with her, her true identity was revealed and she subdued you within minutes.  She worked for the KGB and she was there to expose all of your dirty little spy secrets and dealings to them, so that they could take you down.  But Gascoigne arrived in time to save your ass, because despite how shitty you'd been treating him before that incident, he still cared enough about your partnership to be ready to back you up before you even knew that you needed it.  From that moment on, you two have been the closest of friends.  And that's why you're so determined that Gascoigne stop helping me, because you feel like you owe him one and you want to ensure that he doesn't end up in the same situation.  Especially because you're afraid that you may not make in time to help him."

Suddenly, I felt myself get shoved against the opposite wall with Percival's arm to my neck.  He was so close I could smell the cigarette smoke on his clothes. 

"Shush Delphine, keep it down now, because voices carry," he quoted. "You know that song?"

"Yes," I gulped. "Voices Carry by 'Til Tuesday is one of my favorite songs."

"Then why don't you heed its message, before the wind outside takes your words and spreads them throughout Berlin, because if you haven't noticed, your balcony doors are still wide fucking open," Percival snapped, and I nodded quickly as I swallowed the fear down.  He let go of me and backed away.

"Look, I don't know how the fuck you found that out, because I specifically asked Eric Gray and his cohorts to keep those details quiet, but yes, now you know.  I don't want James repeating my mistakes, especially since I fear that's he's more susceptible to making them, and one day I won't make in time to save him as he did with me," Percival said.

"So what do you want me to do?" I asked.  He didn't answer me, and instead wondered over back to the chair and picked something up.  I gasped; it was my missing picture.

"That's a nice family you've got there Delphine," Percival commented, turning back to me. "And wow, you never struck me as THAT kind of a woman." He gestured to Nicolas and Amelie as he spoke and realized what he meant.

Chapter Text

"If the price is right, I will sell you out.

But no one can touch the way that I touch you."

(David's P.O.V.)

Eyes closed, I settled back on the reclining chair, a mouthful of Jack Daniels sliding down my throat.  I was inside my safe house, enjoying this brief period of silence that I'd been granted.  Nothing to do, no one to investigate, and no one to take home.  At least for the moment.  There was always something, or someone, to do in this business, but every so often neither needed to be done in a timely fashion.  And I could just spend sometime on my own, contemplating my life choices and congratulating myself for still being alive. 

I tried to imagine myself somewhere outside of Berlin, but when you've been in this city as long as I have, that proves to be somewhat of a challenge.  And just as I thought I'd successfully done it, the phone rang, waking me from my reverie.

"Goddamn it," I muttered irritably.  I snatched the phone from its cradle and held it in front of my face. "What?" I snapped into it.

"Well hello to you to Percy, am I interrupting something?" James wondered, a smirk in his voice.

I sat up in my chair a bit and rested the phone on my shoulder. "Sorry James, you just caught me at a bad time.  What's up?"

"I just got off the phone with Delphine Lasalle, and I must say, we had QUITE the interesting conversation," he replied smoothly.

"Oh really? What about?" I asked, playing dumb.

"She called me to tell me that she didn't need me to train her anymore, and I when I tried to ask her why, she kept avoiding the question and simply thanked me for all that I'd done for her and then hung up."

"How strange," I remarked.

"Yes, VERY strange," he repeated, drawing out the word "very." "So you want to know my first thought was?"

"What?"

"'Percival must have something to do with this,'" he said.

"Oi! What makes you think I played a part in her quitting on you?" I exclaimed smoothly.

I could practically see James rolling his eyes before he said "Oh come ON David, you may come off as smooth and suave with other people, but I've worked with you long enough to see right through such a cover-up. You never liked my dealings with Delphine to begin with, so naturally you found a way to intervene. Isn't that right?"

I went quiet, debating whether or not to continue lying or to just tell the truth.  See this would never happen with anyone else, it was always lie, lie, lie.  But that was the thing about James; for some reason, I always felt guilty lying to him.  Maybe it was because he was the only one I could truly consider a friend amongst all this.  

"You're taking too long to answer David...thinking of the right lie to knock me off your trail?" James asked suddenly. 

"No, uh...you're right James, it was me who told Delphine to stop working with you," I admitted.

"Uh-huh, figured as much," he said, sighing. "But why though? It no longer concerned you Percy, so why'd you get involved?" he asked me.

I frowned slightly, unsure whether or not I should awaken the memories. 

"Hello? David you still there?" 

"I have to go James," I said simply, and before he could get another word out, I hung up.

If I got into the truth of my concerns for James, and how it all connected with my foolishness with Val, I'd be displaying serious vulnerability, and I couldn't afford that at this point. 

But perhaps I should explain who Val was, and how my foolishness brought me and James together as partners at long last. 

************

Two years ago...

"So David, shall we discuss where we're going to go stake-out tonight for any signs of this so-called Satchel person everyone keeps talking about?" Gasciogne wondered.  He was driving annoyingly slow down the main street, having just picked me up from my temporary home that I'd set up here in Berlin.  In all frankness, all I really wanted was to be left alone tonight, but Gasciogne insisted that we "go on the prowl".  Frankly, I was shocked he was still putting so much effort into this damned partnership.  

Eric Gray had forced us together about two months ago, and I'd made it very clear from the beginning that I was pissed about it.  But as Gray always liked to fondly point out, he was my "superior" and had no say in the matter.  I had to follow his instructions like a damned robot, even though I could probably take him out with one good punch to the stomach. 

Gasciogne, like the annoying goody-two shoes he was, did everything he could to break the ice between us.  But I was as stubborn as they come, and refused to budge.  I worked alone, and preferred it that way.  Everyone who knew my work knew that.  Partnerships left too much room for truth and vulnerability, and in a field where lying was the only way to win, it seemed pretty fucking stupid to me.  But Gasciogne didn't seem to get it.  From the beginning I could tell that deep down, he was desperate for some kind of human connection.  And in reality, he thought being paired up with the head of Berlin Station was the best thing that could happen to him in his career.

I was determined to prove him wrong.  It wouldn't be a blessing, it was going to be HELL. 

And yet, no matter what I threw at him, he wouldn't back down.  It just made him even more determined. 

"I don't know Gasciogne," I said, realizing I was ignoring him. "You know I didn't really want to be out here in the first place, so what don't you choose?"

"Very well David, be that way," he said with a sigh, turning left down a side street.  He was so focused on the road he didn't see me cringing. 

That was another thing that irked me about that man.  He already thought we were on a first-name basis; he called me David while I continued to just call him Gasciogne, refusing to let us get too familiar. 

"Let's stop off in here," he said, gesturing to a simple brick building awash in the glow of street lamps lining the sidewalk.  But I wasn't paying attention to him, because I immediately noticed that we were near the Luzia, a well-known and established hipster bar down the street from us.  Smiling to myself, I knew immediately what I was going to do.  

Gasciogne pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket and stepped inside.  I followed, but hung by the front door, waiting for the right moment. 

"Hold on, I have to use the loo first," he said, and he headed down the hall, closing the door behind him.  Once I heard him lock the door behind him, I made my escape, slipping out without making a sound.  It was a move I'd mastered in my years training as a spy.

Within minutes, I reached the Luzia, and settled myself down at the bar.  I quietly congratulated myself for escaping, because any more time spent cooped up with Goody Two-Shoes Gasciogne and I would've lost it.  Yes, calling him such a name was childish on my part, but honestly I was so relieved that I didn't care.

Ordering a Bloody Mary for the occasion, I took my coat off and placed it on a hanger, since there was nothing in there for anyone to steal.  As I settled myself down on my bar stool again, I felt eyes on me.  Turning, I caught a woman sitting by herself next to one of the bar's fancy stained glass windows.  Our eyes met, and she smiled sweetly.  Then she made her way over to me.  

"Caught you looking at me, thought I'd introduce myself," she exclaimed pleasantly in a Belgian accent.  She had long wavy red hair, wide brown eyes, and dark red lips that curved into a flirtatious smile.

I returned her smile, figuring a deserved a break, even if only for a little while. "Pretty sure it was you who looked at me first, but sure, have a seat," I said, patting the spot beside me. 

"My name's Val," she said, holding out her hand to me. 

"David," I answered simply, shaking it. "So brings you here?"

"Same as you I imagine, I wanted a drink," she replied. 

"No I mean to Berlin," I said with a light laugh, watching her carefully.

"I've lived her for several years actually, when I was still together with my boyfriend," Val explained. "It didn't end well, but I got so used to the city that I decided to hang around.  It's as simple as that."

"I'm sorry it didn't work out," I said. 

"Eh, as far as I'm concerned he can go fuck himself," she exclaimed, taking a sip from her glass of chardonnay. 

"Good way of looking at it," I responded, unsure of what else to say as I received my drink. 

"What about you?" she asked, her eyes trained directly on me. 

"Same as you," I answered.  Her brown eyes widened.

"Oh my God, are you're saying you're gay?" she said, shocked.

"NO!" I exclaimed, loudly enough that other patrons turned and stared at us.  Their looks of bewilderment and irritation sent Val giggling. 

"Wow, you're certainly a brash one aren't you?" Val marveled. 

I shrugged. "You could say that."

"Then I think, I know how I want to spend the rest of my night," she said cheerfully, crossing one tan leg over the other. 

"Hey, knock yourself out lady," I replied.

************

For the next couple of hours, Val and I talked and got to know each other, and I found her surprisingly easy to talk to.  Not like other beautiful women I'd taken home and slept with, where all I wanted to know was how they wanted to be done.  Yes, I said 'they', not 'it.'

However, Val seemed like a nice lady.  Very inquisitive and happy to talk about herself and her life.  I reminded myself to not forget myself while I was with her, but at the same time, I couldn't resist allowing her to get to know me.  Or at least, what was left to know about me that didn't include my life as a spy.  Surprisingly, I found myself wondering that maybe Gasciogne was right, a little human connection in this business wasn't so bad.  Speaking of which, I wondered why he hadn't come looking for me yet, since I figured it was pretty obvious that I ended up here after leaving him.  But he never did.  I felt a hint of concern, but I told myself that he finally got the hint regarding my distaste for our partnership and leaving me be for once.

I should've known this was all too good to be true.  

Because before I knew it, as I was trying to get up off of my stool, I began feeling woozy, and staring seeing spots.  I couldn't be drunk though, because I'd only had that one drink.  That's when I realized.

Oh God, someone's been in here watching me, I thought. Someone knows who I am, and they drugged me.  Shit I am so-

I couldn't finish the thought, because everything went black.

************

"Wake up Percival!" a Russian female's voice snapped at me.

I felt water being splashed in my face as I slowly came to.  First thing I noticed was that my hands were cuffed on either side of me, and I was cuffed to...a wooden bedpost? I looked down, seeing that thankfully I was still fully-clothed, then realized in shock that it was MY bed I was cuffed to.  I looked up, and standing before me was none other than Val.

"Val, what the hell is going on?" I asked, though I already knew what it was.  I'd been duped. 

"Oh for Heaven's sake Percival, don't be so daft," she said, her accent now very clearly a Russian one. "Although, considering how easy it was for me to take you out, then I guess you maybe ARE daft." 

"Son of a bitch," I exclaimed, "you're a-"

"A spy for the Russians, that's correct," she replied. "Though perhaps I should properly introduce myself, since you so clearly can't and won't escape.  My name is Valeriya Sokolova, and I've been watching you for a long time David Percival." She pronounced my full name slowly and deliberately, mocking me. 

"Fucking hell," I muttered, struggling against the restraints. "You're the infamous Russian spy whose exposed several of Britain's top agents." 

"That would be me," Val presented, striking a dramatic pose.  As she did, I realized she very clearly had a knife in her left hand.  "And who better to expose than the great head of Berlin Station himself.  Though, I certainly didn't think it'd be so easy.  I thought you were smarter than this."

"What do you want?" I demanded, refusing to give into her poking holes in my spy skills.

"To show all those other Russian fuckers that a woman can do better than all of them combined," she exclaimed. "That one woman can find the key to twist into the lock of the entire British spy system, and take it all down from the inside.  And you, Percival, with your close connections to the system, have given me that key."

With that, she lifted up a large black tote bag, and I saw numerous files sticking out of it.  MY files. 

"Wait until my superiors see everything I've obtained from you alone Percival, they'll be foaming at the mouth for all this information!" she shouted gleefully, then she laughed while I groaned in disgust and embarrassment. 

"Hey, don't be that way man, no one is above the power of deception, not even you," Val said. "But still, I have to say I'm quite pleased with the results."

"Are you seriously going to just leave me here?!" I exclaimed, watching her getting ready to leave.

"No of course not!" she said, then she grinned. "Not without leaving a few marks, that is." She put the bag down and approached me slowly, knife raised. 

"Hey, it's nothing personal buddy, it's just business," she admitted. "In fact, I quite enjoyed our little conversation at the bar.  So thank you for that."

"Fuck you," I snapped, furious that I'd let this happen.  

She frowned. "I think we both know the one who's really fucked here," she stated grimly.  With that, she plunged the knife deep into my left thigh.  

I gritted my teeth so hard to keep from screaming, but moaned deeply just the same.  

"You know, you really shouldn't have kicked that partner of yours to the curb David, because maybe you wouldn't be in this situation," Val said, pulling the knife out, and not gently.  

I moaned again, silently hoping Gasciogne wouldn't end up in this same situation.  

"But that's just who you are, isn't it? The man who never thinks he needs any help, only to realize too late that he does," she noticed.  She raised the knife again, ready to take out my other leg, but suddenly out of nowhere, a bullet hit the knife and it flew out of her hand. 

"Get...away...from him!" a familiar voice shouted. 

I looked up and gasped.  Sure enough, there stood Gasciogne, gun aimed right at Val.  

"You have got to be kidding me, and right in the middle of my fun!" she pouted, glaring at him. 

"Just get of here man," I said, cringing at the throbbing pain in my leg.

"David, for once in your life just shut up and let me do this!" he snapped, and I immediately shut my mouth, surprised by his sudden anger. 

"Whatever bitch, I have what I need," she said.  Thinking she was slick, Val dove for the bag, but Gasciogne was quicker.  He leaped on top of her, pushing her onto her back and straddling her to the floor with the mouth of the gun against her head. 

"Why are you even defending him, James?" she asked curiously. "All he's ever done is ignore you and treat you like dirt." 

She had a point.

"Because despite the shitty way he's treated me, which I'm well-aware of thank you very much, we're still partners," he declared. "And partners have each other's backs."

Hearing that last statement, I felt the ice surrounding my heart begin to melt a little.  I couldn't believe he still believed in our partnership so fiercely, even after everything I did to him.

"Aw, how sweet," she said sarcastically, and I saw her reached into her pocket, very slowly so that he wouldn't notice.  

"James, watch out!" I shouted, and thankfully he looked down just in time to avoid being stabbed by yet another knife she had on her.  In self-defense, he punched her in the side of her head so hard she hit the wood floor with a loud thud, instantly knocking her out. 

Then I blacked out too, most likely from the blood loss.

************

When I came too again, it was even darker outside.  The clock beside me read "11:35 pm."

I sat up and realized my arms were no longer cuffed, though it was clear they had been because of the marks on my wrists.  I saw also that large white bandages were wrapped tightly around my leg, and Val's body was gone.  

"Oh good, you're awake," Gasciogne said, coming into sit down in a chair he placed beside me.  

"What did I miss?" I wondered groggily. 

"I tied Sokolova up and dropped her off at the station where she was questioned and arrested," he stated. "I cleaned and bandaged up your wound because you were losing a lot of blood, so you may feel weak for a while because of it.  And also I managed to uncuff you, though it took several tries because damn those cuffs were tight."

"Shit, my head hurts," I muttered. 

"Here, have some tea," he suggested, handing me a mug. 

"Thanks, not much of a tea drinker though," I admitted, taking a sip.

"I know, you're more of a Jack Daniels kind of guy, it's quite obvious by your stash," he said, and in spite of my condition, I laughed.

"How exactly did you find me?" I asked him.

Gasciogne scoffed. "Oh please, you don't think I'd know that you'd pull something as cheap as leaving while I was in the bathroom? I did that on purpose to test you David.  I figured you'd end up at the Luzia, but when I got there you were with Sokolov, so instead of making myself known I watched you two from a far corner of the bar.  When I saw her slip that roofie into your drink at lightning fast speed, I knew smelt trouble.  But you passed out before I could warn you, and I knew I couldn't make a scene for fear of exposing my cover.  So I followed you two at a distance and parked down the street when she reached your hide-out.  I waited outside a while so she wouldn't suspect anything, and didn't go until I knew it was safe.  Happily, I reached you before she did too much more damage."

"But why though? After everything I've put you through, why save me?" I inquired.

"Like I said, we're partners man, and I know there's more to you than all this," he gestured to all of me with his hand "and I'm still determined to get past that and know the real you."

"What do you mean, 'all this'?" 

"This whole spy demeanor you have going on," he confirmed. "Excuse me if all I've been trying to do this whole time is befriend the real you.  You never even gave me a chance to prove myself that I was worthy of being your partner.  You just kept fighting against it."

"Because in my mind, partnerships lead to too much familiarity, and familiarity leads to vulnerability, which leads to a bullet in the head and residual guilt," I explained. "So excuse me if I've been trying to avoid going through all that."

His face softened. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't, because I make it a point never to show my real feelings on things," I said. 

"But with me you don't have to hide," Gasciogne said. "Stick with me, and you may just enjoy being able to really feel things.  Like the pleasantry of having a friend." 

I smirked. I had to give the guy credit, he certainly was optimistic. "We'll see."

"We will, won't we?" he said, and with that, he left me to my thoughts.

************

Present Day

I sighed, staring at the phone as James attempted to call me again after I hung up on him.  In all fairness, I DID appreciate having him as a friend.  But I was scared for him; it had been so easy for me to fall for Sokolov's cover, and it nearly cost Britain everything.  I was scared that if he wasn't careful, he'd make the same mistakes.  That was all.  I wasn't trying to be douchebag, at least not in this case.  I'd done my job by having my partner's back and steering him away from Delphine, now it was my job to steer HER away from both of us.  For all three of our safeties.

My main objective has always been to stay alive.  And that's what I'm doing.

It was nothing personal, just business.