bakerstreet | More than just a job

More than just a job

MORE THAN JUST A JOB

It's only business, nothing personal...at least, that's how it started. You were pegged as the right one for a job that involves this person; your task could be positive, such as protecting them with their consent or without it, guiding them from point a to point b, and the like - or, as seedier transactions tend to go, it could be negative. You have to take them back to a place they really don't want to return to, you have to be a jailor, or you even have to be their assassin. At the very least, helping or hurting, you'll be compensated generously (by money or, you know, by not being killed off). And that was all that mattered.

Until they mattered.

They could have shown you something you never knew existed in the world or in yourself. They could have done any number of things, yet they've won you and your feelings over. Your priorities just may shift because of this, but will their view of you do the same as soon as they learn why you were around them in the first place? For your own gain? Will they be able to forgive you?

Even if they can, will they be able to see you the way you see them?

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That's not true. I know where.

[ it's a shame that he's driving way too fast then -- not because he's expecting the kid to leap out of the car, but merely because he's reckless -- weaving in and out of traffic, speeding right through yellow lights before they turn red, not stopping at stop signs. yet somehow he's not pulled over by the cops! amazing. ]

Just relax. [ like anyone can do that when they're being kidnapped... ] S'not that bad.

You're the one behind the wheel, dude.

[He takes a slow, silent breath as he steels himself. He's got one shot at this. One shot to break free or break his neck. He's not sure what he's doing; he's never fought before, so he elbows the glass as hard as he can.

[It doesn't work. Pain sears up his arm and he clutches it to his body with a whimper. Thankfully, the strength he used was just shy of doing too much damage to himself. The glass doesn't even have a crack in it.]

FUCK, that hurts!!

[...That's definitely a woman's voice.]

What the fuck're you doing??

[ the sharp voice surprises him enough to jerk the wheel, almost slamming the truck right into an ice cream truck serving some brats some softserve, but luckily he's a good enough driver that he doesn't. ]

Don't be stupid, that shit's made to last even if another car hits it.

[ this ain't a movie!!! ]

You're gonna hurt yourself like that.

Trying to get out, you moron! You're driving like you have screws loose!! I'd rather eat asphalt than go wherever you're taking me!

[But he's still too occupied with nursing his elbow to make any further attempts at the moment. At least his voice is more or less back to what it was before.

[Oh good, he can still move his arm and elbow. Not broken. Hurts like a bitch, but not broken.]

[ well that's an understandable preference because he is very clearly driving toward the docks now, where there are warehouses and abandoned places and that is... really not appealing, is it? but there's a room set up for the kid to stay in. and he's gotta babysit until the money comes through. ]

Shit, we're almost there, so just calm down.

[ See!! Look at that creepy building they're pulling up to!! There's no way this place is used for murders and drugswaps, nope. ]

[He sees the place they're approaching, and his face turns sheet white.]

Oh ffff----. I know how this is gonna go. I've seen the movies. You can't lie to me!!

[Ren starts aggressively trying to pull the latch to open the truck's door - even going so far as to try and use his feet in the hopes of busting it open and trying not to cry from panic. That's what "calm down" means, right?

[Of course, he's not strong enough to do much of anything against a locked car door.]

This ain't a movie!!

[ he parks the car behind one of the buildings, swinging out so he can go around back to grab Ren again ]

C'mon, it'll be fine. [ even if he's telling the truth ... it's not like he's exactly a great person to believe rn... ] Nobody's here, anyway! [ that's what he's worried about right?? ]

[And Ren tries to make this as difficult as possible by squirming his way over to the opposite side.]

No it won't!! You're crazy if you think it's fine!! Crazy!

[ he stands there for a moment, making a face because damn. this is his life right now. this is what he has to do. but orders are orders, and Cain's fucked if this doesn't work out.

cracking his knuckles, he hops into the truck, blocking the door and making a grab for Ren; wrapping his arms around his waist so that he can't weasel out, pressing his lips against his neck once he's locked into place. ]

Be nice.

[ is a kiss to the throat enough to startle him into momentary submission??]

[It's enough. He squeals (it sounds girly) and he shivers slightly as what feels like insects crawling along his back. Ren's waist is a little bit squishy, too.]

I-I haven't... tried kicking you in the nads so that's something??

[But he can tell that Cain's much stronger than he is. So he just sort of goes limp like a sack of potatoes. Passive resistance and all that.]

I don't even know what the hell you want from me. It's not like I'm rich or anything. I have literally five bucks to my name.

[ passive resistance may as well be no resistance, considering he has no issues hoisting Ren up to pull him out of the van. small... for his age? not that Cain's really sure how old the kid is. it's not like he asked for all that many details (which, in hindsight, he probably should have). ]

Not you. Your parents.

[ Slinging Ren over his shoulder again, he strides into the building. It's not quite as bad on the inside as it is on the outside; shabby, but livable. he reaches one of the rooms and opens it with a key. there's a bed along with a small couch, a TV, no windows, and a small bathroom toward the back.

he goes ahead and tosses Ren down onto the mattress, locking the door behind him. ]

Ah, but you're cute. I don't mind spending some time with you.

[ though he drops himself down onto the couch across from the mattress rather than join the youth ]

[Alarmed by being put on a bed (who knows where it'd been?) Ren scrambles off of it in order to sit on the floor.]

...Wait, what'd you say about my parents being rich? That's news to me. And we live in a place that's only a bit nicer than this. More rooms and windows, though.

I mean, if they are, somehow, rich, I guess it's fine. I was planning on ditching them, anyway. They believe in the whole arranged marriages crap. Nineteen's a bit young to spend the rest of your life with someone who doesn't respect you, right?

Pardon me, but it's pretty bullshit. A little bit of this... karma, I guess? It'll be good for them. It'll be a good way to see if they even give a crap.

We don't even do that shit in Russia anymore.

[ and Russia can be a pretty terrible place!! even the mail order brides get a choice, usually. he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, watching Ren. ]

Fuck them if they're gonna make you do something you don't want to.

[ says Ren's kidnapper.

.... but he does have to pause at the whole thing about his parents not being rich. uh. he's pretty sure a Governor is pretty rich?? there's a few moments where all he does is stare at Ren's face before he shifts to pull the photograph out of his pocket, shifting from the image of the boy on the paper to the one in front of him. ]

Blyad! [ and he throws himself back onto the couch. no fucking way. they look similar (very similar) but... shit. fuck! ]

[Ren frowns when all Cain does is stare at his face and look at -- is that a photo? And he can only assume what he just said was something pretty nasty. He gets curious, though, and gets up in order to try to get a peek at the photograph. When he does, his eyebrow goes up, and he tries not to laugh.]

Oh god, you mistook me for the Governor's brat??

I don't know if I should feel insulted or flattered! So I won't decide on either.

But nah. My folks aren't nearly as loaded as the Governor, sorry to say.

Wow.

[Tilting his head slightly, Ren still struggles not to laugh. He felt all of that horror of fear for absolutely nothing, so what's NOT hilarious about it?]

[ in all fairness he'd probably be laughing like an asshole if the situation were reversed. shit, he needs a drink. two. twelve. he just lies on the couch in frustration and vague anguish, wearing the saltiest pout with brows furrowed, right at the ceiling. ]

You look similar!

[ like that's gonna cut it for the boss. who... he can't tell about this, because he's gonna get really fucking mad. and what's he gonna do with this one? can he really just let him go now that he knows Cain's face, name, and the fact that he's trying to kidnap the governor's brat? ]

Well, I'm fucked.

[ and out of his pocket comes a small canteen that he pries open and takes a healthy swig of. when he's done he offers the canteen to Ren, because eh, why not ]

And not in the good way. [ as in, getting laid. nope, fucked as in going to get wrecked by a really angry boss. ] Been a shitty life anyway.

[To that, Ren winces at the mental imagery, as well as the fact that Cain's remark about his life makes him feel uncertain. Taking the canteen, he takes a delicate sniff of the contents before taking a sip, and then wrinkling his nose as he tries not to make a face of distaste as the flavor doesn't agree with his taste buds.]

....N-no thanks. More for you.

[He offers it back, sticking his tongue out for a few seconds as if the air around it might wipe the taste from his tongue. It doesn't.]

What do you mean you're fucked? So you got the wrong guy. What makes you think that you can't just turn around and go back out to get the right one?

Not that I condone what you're doing, but you're the guy with all the cards, so to speak.

Unless you'd rather not get caught because you blew through traffic like a maniac.

If that's the case, then yes, I think I agree with your assessment.

[ he shrugs and takes another swig of the stuff. more for him, then.

at least until he almost chokes from laughter at Ren's comment. The guy with all the cards? More like the guy with one of the cards. Being under orders from someone who has you well under their thumb isn't the same as freelancing as a kidnapping nutcase wanting cash from the Govener.

he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, ]

It's been about ... half an hour since I first picked you up. Forty five minutes? [ he drops the canteen and then turns his head to look at Ren with black eyes ] When I picked you up, that was the window of time that brat wasn't under lock and key. Now, he's home in their bigass mansion. [ he swept his hand through his hair, closing his eyes. ]

Which means that the call made by someone else when I was driving you was taken as nothing more than a prank. These things happen, they'd probably think, laughing and hanging up. And why wouldn't they? The kid was fucking home.

So the boss knows by now that I didn't do the job. And because of that, he'll kill me. I don't kidnap people because it's fun for me.

[ and then he opens his eyes again. should he have told that all to someone like this? nope. but he's already fucked and half past caring. ]

[Ren falls silent, considering this. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ren's answer is particularly simplistic.]

So then, we both run.

I don't want to go back, and... you have no reason to trust that I won't go rat you out to the cops.

You don't... look like the kinda person who would roll over dead at beck and call, either.

Or... am I wrong, somewhere? Am I not considering something important?

[Ren couldn't help but try to consider the possibilities before them. Or, well, him. Admittedly, he did worry that he might get offed too if Cain's boss found them. It was better not to have any witnesses, right?

[But he didn't want to influence Cain's decisions unduly. It was for this reason that he had yet to give Cain his name as well. It was easier not to attribute a name to someone you didn't care about. But Ren already heard Cain's name. And Cain.. wasn't insufferable, so far.]

[ of course, that had occurred to Cain at some point between realizing that this wasn't the brat he'd needed and now—he was right about the whole not just giving up and dying business. though he hated the feeling of running away. there was a part of him that insisted that he return to the boss and face him. pride... pride, and a sick sense of loyalty that'd been ingrained in him since he'd started working for the bastard.

stupid. but it bothered him all the same; he wasn't really as cold and callous as he presented. ]

... Nope. Don't think so.

[ the canteen's empty, and he can taste the liquor thick on his tongue. ]

Unless you count where the fuck you're gonna live, and shit.

Honestly? I don't give a crap if I have to live a hobo life until I can find somewhere.

It's better than resigning the rest of my life to being someone's-- someone's bitch.

[In more ways than one, but Cain didn't need to know that.]

I'm not staying here. I know what waits for me in its entirety if I do go back, and, pardon me, but fuck. that. bullshit.

I'm not gonna lay myself down, and happily invite the rest of my life to be over before it's got time to get started!

[ sure, he doesn't understand all the implications, but he does understand. being someone's bitch sucks—and, he thinks, he's gotten kind of sick of it. sure, the boss'll fuck him up if he finds him: but that's the kicker. he's gotta find him. and Cain had set up this little room on his own (you just get orders and then do, bosses are above menial labor). he doesn't know where they are. doesn't know shit until someone else in the gang tracks him down.

he shrugs his shoulders, making a vague gesture with his hand ]

Then you're all set.

[ the answer gets a grin out of him, a toothy grin as he swings himself up out of his horizontal position. ]

I'm gonna leave at night. You can come, if you want, or you can leave by yourself now. I'm not gonna stop you.

[Ren hesitates. He's letting him go, just like that? He's not sure if it's a ruse or not, like in the-- no, it's not a movie.

[But he can go with him too, if he wants? Just if he wants to?]

[He idly stares in a nondescript spot just past Cain's shoulder, idly settling his hands into his pockets as he considers.

[If he goes on foot, and he's found, his folks are likely to drag him back, he recalls. At least in a vehicle, he has a chance of getting further away, faster. Of course, then that also further gets him involved in Cain's troubles. It could turn seriously violent.

[Call him shallow, but Cain's not bad to look at. Even smelling of booze at the moment, he has his own charm, and, it seems in so far, he hasn't lied to him.

[If he ever gets tired, or finds somewhere to stop, he can always bail later. Even though the thought leaves him feeling mildly uncomfortable.

[His decision made, he looks back at Cain, and then cracks a wry smile.]

...Can I at least ride shotgun this time?

[ that gets another laugh, more cheerful than the last ones, as he runs a hand through his thick hair, pushing it out of his face. ]

Sure. You can sit on the damn roof, if you want to.

[ he glances at his watch: they've got a few hours before night time, but he really doesn't think they should move before then. not when the gang's active—they might be trying to salvage the situation, or they might be trying to find him. either way: moving seems bad. ]

What do you wanna do to kill the next few hours? Better stay here until it's dark and quiet. Easier to drive, less likely of being seen, yadda yadda.

[ honestly, he's considering nabbing a different car. white vans tend to attract attention, easy as they are to get. ]

Other than nap until then, I really didn't have any ideas. Unless you do?

[Well, he does, but it's not "wholesome" an idea. Wanting to get closer ~~on the first date~~ after being kidnapped by that person is kind of... strange. He can't quite reconcile it yet in his head. Frowning a little in thought, something else occurs to him.]

Oh, right. If you ever wanna call me anything other than "you" or whatever, you can call me Ren.

[Admittedly, it's a far different name than the name of the governor's kid, too. Imagine how differently this could have played out if Cain had asked his name first!]

Ren.

[ yeah... yeah. he just all around fucked that one up. though in a shitty defense: he forgot what the governor's kid's name was, he'd been pretty sure face would be easy enough. obviously not.

but he tries the name out: it's not hard to remember. short. one syllable.

he kicks his boots off and shrugs out of his jacket so he was only clad in black jeans and a black tank top, draping himself back across the couch like a cat, muscles rippling while he stretches out lazily. sleep isn't the worst thing in the world. ]

Mm... not unless you wanna make out.

[ he's... kidding. partially. not really. ]

If you wanna sleep, that mattress isn't actually that fucked up. Got it off a shipment a while back.

[ so he's slept on it before, yeah, and most of his lays don't like the whole 'coming to a warehouse dock area' thing. ]

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