I swear to god, Gabriel. Sometimes you’re like a bloodhound. Once you catch a scent, nothing can stop you, huh?
A casual remark from years ago, some offhand comment from Jack during one of their so-called fights over something Gabriel couldn’t even remember anymore. Sometimes, he remembered it and grinned; Jackie had always known him better than anyone else could ever hope to.
Well. Almost anyone else.
No one knows you better than yourself, they say. Whoever they are, Gabriel had decided that they were probably right. his own head was a minefield at the best of days but a fucking familiar one, one he knew how to find his way around in perfectly. To have been confronted with a mirror image of himself, now that was where it became interesting. Real fucking interesting.
The fact that he, too kissed with teeth and tongue and like he was dying, well. Maybe that was just a bonus.
Either way, Gabriel followed the trail.
He, they, whatever, they’re good at this. At hiding, even in plain sight sometimes, or in safehouses scattered around the globe in a multitude of cities and scapes. But he’s patient, and he’s stubborn, and he can move around like smoke in the shadows, unseen and undetected by any kind of security. Not that he expected any, not really; but you could never be too sure.
When his patience was finally rewarded, he couldn’t help but grin to himself.
Quite literally.
“Fancy seeing me here, amigo.”
@adfrigus
