jamie has a natural knack for slipping around people unnoticed. he doesnβt do much planning or preparation when heβs asked to do a job. a fact which, has on occasion, scared those hiring him. telling government people that heβll justΒ βwing it and see what happensβ is never reassuring, but hey, he gets it done, usually without issue, so they never complain. or well, not to his face, when heβs sipping a coffee and handing them what they asked for as if heβd just run to the store to get milk. dealing with moriartys just seems to have that effect on people.
point being, nobody pays him any attention as heβs making his way through the building, looking very much like he shouldnβt be there. hands in the pockets of his jeans, boots still holding some mud from their weekend hike, faded leather jacket over an equally faded tshirt β he doesnβt fit in here at all. those that do stop to give him a look are pacified by the manβs bright smile, the air around him suggesting he could never do anything wrong ever in his life β and people usually believe it.Β
heβs been given all the information he needs, locations and passcodes (or at least a handy device that makes passcodes unnecessary. ah the joys of being friends with mi6 β even if jamie can pick just about any lock). so the man heads straight for the office; he just needs a file, which heβll memorize then burn, per the contract. he doesnβt need anything else, but that doesnβt mean if he sees something of interest he wonβt take it. he doesnβt need the money, but if thereβs an intriguing book or small trinket wellβ¦ he hardly thinks thatβll be the main concern in the fuss.
nobody is supposed to be here, so imagine his surprise when the door is already open. and jamie, though never one for confrontation, also likes to get in the way and push his luck. so heβs leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, because heβs a genius, sure, but it doesnβt take one to know that the guy who isΒ here also shouldnβt be. casual grin on his lips as he watches for a moment before heβs breaking the silence with a mischievousΒ βwell, this isΒ a predicament, isnβt it.β
Β Β Β He might have noticed someone coming up behind him--had he not just gotten the safe open. The gentle rustling of locked away valuables covered the sound of soft footfalls, the sudden sound of a voice behind him giving him more of a start than he would have liked to admit. For a moment he felt his heart stall, his body tensing even as his mind began formulating lies, plans of action, any excuse to walk away. A shame the voice didnβt register immediately, either--had he not been kicking himself for not paying enough attention he would have saved himself a bit of grief.Β
Β Β Β Tucking away the file in his hand with small, practiced motions, Gabe cleared his throat and turned to face the otherΒ intruder, already planning his escape should he need to bolt. Of course that would mean, regrettably, that he would have to leave the rest of the safeβs contents behind, but the papers tucked away in the breast pocket of his jacket would be worth the effort, at least.Β
Β Β Β βNow, I knowΒ how this looks, but would you believe--β A pause, the words dying in his throat once his gaze fully settled on the man in front of him. The room was dark, sure, but not so dark that Gabe couldnβt make out familiar features of a man he had once known. Was his mind playing tricks on him? There was no possibleΒ way they could both be standing there, in that office, at the same time--not after everything that had happened between them. A cruel joke, maybe--the universe was good at those.Β
Β Β Β βNo shit.β Whether it was a conscious decision or not, he wasnβt sure, but the English accent he had adopted melted away in an instant.Β βWhat, did you hear that I was in London now and decided to follow me? I mean, Iβm flatteredΒ that Iβve got a stalker, but nowβs really not the time for this. Couldnβt we have caught up over drinks or something?β
Β Β Β Despite the tone of his voice, he was already grinning, body relaxing despite the fact that they were not yet out of danger. Far from it, in fact. If he kept talking he was likely to attract attention, no matter how low he kept his voice, and yet he hardly seemed to care. Two people had walked past several security guards and nothing had happened; he could have probably blown the safe open and walked out without a second glance.
Β Β Β βOh, wait--I get it. Youβre trying to get meΒ thrown out of a country now, arenβt you?β