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[indent][color=silver]The square was the kind of place that looked like it had been there longer than anyone could reliably remember - cobblestones worn smooth by decades of foot traffic, a stone bench along one side that had seen better centuries, and a fountain in the center that had clearly given up any pretense of functioning some years ago and was now simply decorative in the way that things become when nobody could be bothered to fix them.

Sienna walked beside Bret with her coffee in both hands, the good kind, properly made, the first sip of which had done more for her in thirty seconds than Father Riordan's burnt offering had managed in twenty minutes. She let the silence run for a little while - it was comfortable enough, which was its own surprise - but a thought kept gnawing at her.

[color=#B77B89]"I owe you an apology,"[/color] she exhaled eventually. Like most people, she hated taking ownership of her missteps. [color=#B77B89]"For the other morning. I left without - "[/color] She paused, turning the cup in her hands. [color=#B77B89]"There should have been a note. At minimum."[/color]

She glanced sideways at him, briefly.

[color=#B77B89]"I had reasons. They felt considerably more convincing at six in the morning than they do right now."[/color] The corner of her mouth lifted slightly. [color=#B77B89]"But I somehow talked myself into believing the best thing I could do was leave quietly and go back to minding my own business."[/color] A beat. [color=#B77B89]"In hindsight, that was fairly naive.”[/color]

[color=#C8E39A]“It’s a completely understandable train of thought.”[/color] Bret walked alongside her at a slightly slower pace, fighting through the aches and pains that had become all encompassing over the last few days. [color=#C8E39A]“I pulled you into something that really wasn’t your fight. Any sane person would probably have a similar idea to run as fast as they could.”[/color] His words were easy, as they so often were. Bret had learned that speaking softly meant that people had to pay more attention to what was said. [color=#C8E39A]“Please don’t apologise any further. That side of my world, it’s a lot, to say the least.”[/color]

Bret began to smile again, that damned half smile.

[color=#C8E39A]“Anyway, it’s probably a good thing you left when you did,”[/color] He raised a hand to the back of his neck, giving it a firm rub before he continued speaking. [color=#C8E39A]“As you can tell by my slow walk and usually pretty face, it’s been a rough couple of days. Still, every step counts and I’m getting closer and closer to an answer.”[/color]

He dwelled on that thought for a second. Whilst it was true that he was indeed getting closer, he was also finding more questions that didn’t have answers. At first it was simple, where was Tae? Then King’s Blood entered the equation. So-Mi and her powers. Billy and his rampaging alter ego, The Hart. All cast under the shadow of El Jefe. Bret had asked himself, multiple times by that point, how many of these questions he actually wanted the answers to.

[color=#C8E39A]“Maybe one day we’ll meet under regular circumstances. Probably not at your bar though, no offense it’s a bit expensive for my humble pockets.”[/color]

[color=#B77B89]"None taken,"[/color] Sienna replied, a smirk gracing her lips, [color=#B77B89]"Though for what it's worth, I have a discretionary fund at my disposal. I [i]am[/i] the owner, so, what I say goes."[/color] She was quiet for a moment, the open invitation standing, her eyes on the cobblestones ahead of them.

[color=#B77B89]"Regular circumstances,"[/color] she repeated, turning the phrase over lightly. [color=#B77B89]"I'm not sure I'd know what those looked like anymore."[/color] She stated it without self pity, just the dry acknowledgment of someone who had spent long enough in the particular orbit of this city to know that ordinary evenings had a way of not staying that way. Another quiet moment passed, the sounds of Wicklow filling the silence. [color=#B77B89]"You said you're getting closer,"[/color] she commented eventually. [color=#B77B89]"To finding Tae."[/color] It wasn't quite a question. [color=#B77B89]"Is that actually true, or is that the thing you say so people don't worry?"[/color]

She glanced at him again, and this time didn't look away.

[color=#B77B89]"I'm asking because it matters. Not just for the kid."[/color] A beat. [color=#B77B89]"The man who came into my bar knew about the casino. Which means whoever sent him is connected to whatever you're already pulling at. Which means"[/color] - she exhaled slowly - [color=#B77B89]"whether I like it or not, I'm already in it."[/color]

Bret knew better in that moment than to try and talk around the subject. Not that he particularly wanted to anyway. Sienna, both times that he had met her, seemed to pull something out of him. Something that was honest, a rarity after so long in a world submerged in the dark depths of deception.

[color=#C8E39A]“I’m getting there, I think.”[/color] He began to explain as he slipped his hands into the front of his jeans. [color=#C8E39A]“After Thursday, I started looking a little more at this El Jefe character, and didn't really find much. He’s basically a ghost. Then..a friend who’s been helping me got a ping from Tae’s phone at a club so I headed out that way and, well I got my arse handed to me by some rampaging thingamabob that turned out to be some terrified kid hopped up on King’s Blood.”[/color]

He stopped to look at the disused fountain that sat before them. Like most things in Wicklow, its beauty was not to be ignored but it was probably lost on those that walked by everyday. [color=#C8E39A]“I’m working on the theory that Tae is using the Blood himself. Probably tried to cut a deal that he shouldn’t, now he’s on the run. Teleporting, I think but he’s lost or he can’t control it and it won’t stop. But that’s just a theory.”[/color]

Staring at the carved face in the stone for a moment, Bret turned his attention to Sienna. [color=#C8E39A]“At the end of the day, he’s just a scared kid that needs help and that’s all that matters. The rest of it? Well I’ll do what needs to be done, if I need to.”[/color]

Sienna listened without interrupting, the way she always did when something was worth actually listening to. As he spoke of his trials, she thought about the vial he’d placed on her bar that first night; thought about Sauvage’s face splitting open in the casino, about what King’s Blood had done to her. 

It went without saying she was grateful for her abilities. Her father used to say they made her - and him, for that matter, as a Gray - special. But the bottom line was this wasn’t the life she would have chosen for herself, not by a longshot. Being a Gray these days was a constant target on her back, a secret she had to hold so close to herself for fear of retaliation. She couldn’t wrap her head around why someone normal would want a taste of that kind of existence.

[color=#B77B89]“Teleporting without control,”[/color] she stated, mostly to herself. [color=#B77B89]“That’s not a power. That’s a prison.”[/color] She was quiet for a moment, taking a slow sip of her coffee, before stopping in her tracks and turning to face him completely. [color=#B77B89]“I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, but be careful, Bret.”[/color]

[color=#B77B89]“That boy needs someone to help him, and you’re considerably less useful to him six feet under.”[/color]

Her words struck hard and somewhat surprisingly so.

Even as a youngster, Bret had consistently put himself in positions that were not inherently safe. Was this on purpose? Not necessarily but it also wasn’t completely by accident either. Without his father to guide him, without any real friends to call on, all the child version of Bret had was the mountains, the lakes and the woods. He could be up there for days, weeks at a time and he would feel more comfortable than he ever had in town. Amongst the trees, the deer and murder of crows, he fell at peace, no matter the danger he was in.

Both his time spent in the Royal Marines and Directorate Nine was the same. Gunfire, explosions, the singular battle between him and his opponent. It was all dangerous and it was all an opportunity for him to be taken from the world. Yet it never happened. As a God fearing man, he had to believe that was for a reason. He had to believe that he was given the power of the Pilgrim for a reason. Perhaps it was this? To find Tae Park and bring him home. So far, it had tested much of the skills he had learned over the course of his life and he imagined it would continue to do so.

[color=#C8E39A]“I’ll try my best.”[/color] Bret spoke with that easy smile that always did but his eyes were a little more serious this time. [color=#C8E39A]“Try not to worry, I’ll get this all squared away and when I do, I’ll make you pancakes.”[/color]

Sienna looked at him for a moment - really looked at him - something shifting quietly in her expression. The fact that he’d remembered, filed away without being told to and surfacing now in the most offhand way possible made her head spin a little.

[color=#B77B89]“Pancakes,”[/color] She repeated, and smiled. [color=#B77B89]“I’ll hold you to that.”[/color]

She finished the last of her coffee, turning the empty cup in her hands, and let the square settle quietly around them for a moment. Then, because she hadn’t come all the way to Saint Brigid’s on a Sunday to leave without asking the thing she actually needed to ask.

[color=#B77B89]“The man who came to my bar,”[/color] she commented, her voice dropping back into the register she used when she was serious about something. [color=#B77B89]“What do I do if he comes back?”[/color] The brunette looked at Bret directly, no deflection in her brown eyes. [color=#B77B89]“Not the version where I pour his drink and smile and act like everything’s fine.”[/color]

[color=#B77B89]“The real version. What should I do?”[/color]

[color=#C8E39A]“Call me.”[/color] 

Bret’s response was immediate. The tone was serious but not stern. He wasn’t trying to treat her like a woman who couldn’t handle herself because he knew she could. Hell, if it came down to it she could probably take him down with relative ease. Instead, he was simply answering her question the only way he truly knew how; by offering to deal with it himself.

[color=#C8E39A]“I’m not trying to play the hero or any of that. The simple fact of the matter is the Velvet is meant to be Switzerland, impartial and safe. You’ve worked so hard to make it like that.”[/color] His voice softened somewhat. [color=#C8E39A]“And you need to keep it like that. This guy is a disruptor. He’s there to throw you off your game, force your hand into making a mistake. Don’t.”[/color] He put his hand gently on her arm, reassuring and delicate. 

[color=#C8E39A]“If he turns up again, you call me and I’ll come down. I’m not part of the game but I sure as hell can be.”[/color]

His hand on her arm was steadier than she expected, given the state of the rest of him. There was something grounding about it. She was aware of it in the way you were aware of something that was both small and not small at all. Bret wasn't wrong about the bar - about not making a mistake. About what the man had come in to do and how she shouldn't let him do it. Sienna had known that, somewhere underneath the two days of running it back in her head and had just needed someone else to say it out loud.

[color=#B77B89]“Okay,”[/color] she replied finally, the word landing with the particular weight of someone who didn't say it often. [color=#B77B89]"If he comes back, I'll call you."[/color] She reached into her jacket pocket and held her phone out to him, unlocked, without ceremony.

[color=#B77B89]"You should probably put your number in there, then."[/color] The corner of her mouth lifted, just slightly. [color=#B77B89]"Given that I had to locate the church you barely mentioned and endure genuinely terrible coffee to find you today. I'd rather have a more direct option next time."[/color]

[color=#C8E39A]“Yes ma’am.”[/color]

The easy smile returned as Bret took a hold of her phone and typed in his number. It took him a few tries to remember it in his head. Despite very much being a modern man, he tended to only use technology when he had to…and that meant primarily his microwave for dinner. Thus, remembering his actual phone number became a bit of a mission in itself. Or it could be the multitude of concussions and undoubtedly abundant CTE that drifted around his grey matter.

[color=#C8E39A]“I mean it though, Sienna. This number isn’t just for this guy. If you need anything, day or night, just give me a ring and I’ll be there like…well I’ll be there fast.”[/color] He handed the phone back to her and placed his hand on top of hers in a gesture of comfort and confidence. [color=#C8E39A]“You said you’re in it now. Well you’re not in it alone, we’ll get through this together alright?”[/color]

It was foreign, really, the feeling that washed over Sienna as Bret reassured her. He was effectively a stranger, and yet, she knew his words were no less than the absolute truth. It was magnetic, the way she was drawn to him - Father Riordan had made a vast understatement when he said the Englishman had this way about him that made people feel safe. In fact, it was rare for Sienna to feel supported, a warmth she wanted to bottle up and save for a rainy day.

But, she was still the same spitfire of a woman after all, so her mask stayed put and the brunette simply nodded in agreement.

[color=#B77B89]“Alright.”[/color]

Bret smiled and released her hands, though selfishly he probably didn’t want too so quickly. He placed them back onto his pockets and offered her the same smile he always did, although at this point, the painkillers were starting to wear off and he was actively fighting the grimace that was trying to break through. [color=#C8E39A]“Alright, now that all that seriousness is out of the way, let’s get out of here before we get arrested for loitering. Wicklow’s been a bit like that lately.”[/color]

As he led Sienna away from the fountain, Bret felt that same feeling on the back of his neck, only this time it seemed to drift down his spine.

He didn’t notice that a shard of glass that had been broken off and left in the fountain was reflecting in a way that it most definitely should not have been…[/color][/indent][center][color=#B77B89]_________________________________________________________[/color]
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[color=silver]Collaboration with [@Melissa][/color][/sup][/center]