The walls will fall before we do...
Ugh, nervous this morning. We need Arsenal and Liverpool to drop points today ahead of our trip to Everton tomorrow. I'm really missing my Chelsea boys after eight days with no games--rescheduled matches suck! But at least I'll get to see them three days this week, and possibly Riccy on Boxing Day. \o/ Happy Christmas to me!
In other news, I've done another fic, because one ticket to special hell just isn't enough. *facepalm* This one is all _backpages_'s fault. She asked for Damien on a bike, preferably wearing Rand's jacket from Live Free or Die Hard, and it is the season of giving.
Title: L’échappatoire
Fandom: Banlieue 13-Ultimatum
Summary: Leïto needs a way out. An old acquaintance could be the ticket, but all is not as it seems. 2,978 words, rated M.
Disclaimer: Ce n’est pas à moi.
AN: The title means escape, with the added connotation of loophole. I reckon Leïto knows a few things about those.
L’échappatoire
Leïto’s time is nearly up. Approaching siren wails grow deafening as he places the last bomb and yanks the cord. A moment later the wall explodes in a shower of rubble, spattering two police cars that screech into view, but Leïto is already sprinting for the cover of the nearby parking garage. He launches himself sideways off the wall to hurdle a third cruiser when it careens into his path and outstrips the two patrolman pursuing him on foot. Just as Leïto enters the garage, a transport van swerves up behind him and spills several units of special forces operatives.
Leïto doesn’t look back. He hurtles diagonally through the empty garage, ducking behind heavy concrete pillars as shots ring out in the distance. Within seconds he clears the opposite end of the building and bursts out into the open, angling for the condemned apartments a few blocks away. He’s counting on a clear shot; the street has long been closed for construction that went the way of every other service promised to Banlieue 13.
Suddenly Leïto hears an engine roar on the other side of the blockade. He immediately checks his run, searching for another avenue of escape. In that instant a sleek black motorcycle soars over the barricade and skids to a halt in front of him.
Though Leïto doesn’t recognize the rider’s canvas jacket from any police uniform he’s not about to take chances, or miss the perfect break he’s just been handed. But before he can move, the rider calls out in a voice he hasn’t heard for two years.
‘Get on, Leïto!’
Leïto gapes in disbelief as the rider whips off his helmet, revealing familiar buzzed hair and sharp blue eyes.
‘Move it, asshole,’ Damien barks again, ‘or we’re both dead!’
There’s no time to ask questions. Whistles and heavy footsteps echo down the street toward them, and the low hum of a helicopter sounds over the purr of the bike. Damien’s offer could be a trap, but Leïto is dead either way. He clambers aboard.
‘Here!’ Damien thrusts the helmet into his hands and wrenches the handlebar.
Leïto crams the helmet over his head as the bike surges forward in a cloud of dust. He scrambles for a better grip on Damien’s jacket, ducking his head against the wind. They jolt through the construction zone, jumping holes and debris, and speed past the vacant apartments.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Leïto shouts as Damien veers into the abandoned metro station and aims for the stairs.
‘Saving your fucking life!’ Damien yells back. ‘Hold on!’ The bike shudders violently, but they clear the stairs and roar down one of the tracks. Leïto clenches his arms more tightly around Damien’s waist and tries to follow their mazy progress amongst the platforms. He has completely lost all sense of direction when Damien finally swerves into a dark tunnel and kills the engine.
‘What the-’
‘Shh!’ Damien cuts him off, fiddling with a box on the handlebars. There’s a short burst of static before a tinny voice repeats something about a suspect, and Leïto realizes it’s a police radio. They listen in tense silence for several minutes until it becomes obvious that the pursuing units have lost the trail. Leïto removes the helmet and slides off the bike. It's time for some answers. Then the radio crackles again and his blood goes cold.
'...any force necessary to apprehend. A reward of 2,000 euros has been posted for this target...repeat: all units be advised, target considered extremely dangerous...'
So that's it. Leïto's fists clench at his own stupidity as Damien turns off the radio and opens his mouth to speak. Leïto doesn't wait to hear another lie. With one swift motion he swings the helmet at Damien's temple and takes off sprinting down the tunnel.
'Fuck!' Damien's startled shout echoes along the walls behind him, followed by the snarl of the motorcycle flaring to life once more. 'Dammit, Leïto, stop!'
Leïto runs faster, squinting at the sudden glare when Damien's headlight beams into the darkness. He can hear the bike buzzing loudly behind him and steels himself for the fight. In the next moment Damien cuts the ignition and springs forward, knocking Leïto to the ground as the bike spins sideways into the tunnel wall.
They tumble painfully onto the unguarded rail and Leïto aims another punch at Damien’s jaw. Damien makes a hasty block, bringing his forearm down hard across Leïto’s windpipe, and knees him in the gut.
‘Cut it out, Leïto! I’m not here to fight you!’
‘No,’ Leïto spits, throwing Damien off him and scrambling to his feet, ‘just to claim your reward!’
Damien rolls to his knees, eyes wide, and Leïto could almost mistake his shock for hurt. ‘You think I’m after money?’
‘Doesn’t matter, superflic,’ Leïto pants, backing away, ‘because you’re not taking me in.’ He turns and vaults back onto the platform.
‘Go on, then, wiseass!’ Damien’s angry voice calls after him. ‘Take one step out of here and I won’t need to. You’ll be dead before you see daylight!’
Leïto hesitates. His eyes are adjusting to the dark but he has no idea where the tunnel leads or what might be waiting at the end of it. He hears Damien climb up from the track.
‘You heard the radio,’ the cop says softly. ‘There’s at least a dozen units looking for you, snipers on every roof, and helicopters circling the area. Every idiot with a gun or a slingshot’s gonna be after that reward, and they won’t be picky with their aim.’
‘So what?’ Leïto whirls to face him. ‘If I play nice and go with you I get to live?’ He shakes his head, mouth hard. ‘I’d rather take my chances.’
‘Don’t you get it?’ Damien growls, suddenly three steps nearer, and whips the back of his hand across Leïto’s cheek. ‘I’m not taking you in!’
Leïto stares at him, holding his jaw in surprise. Damien turns away. His voice is rough when he speaks again.
‘After all this time you really think I’d find you just to send you to jail?’
Leïto frowns at Damien’s back, for the first time noticing the tense set of his shoulders. Maybe he was wrong, but his instincts have kept him alive this long.
‘What was I supposed to think?’ he demands. ‘You turn up out of nowhere after two years, just as your pals on the force put a price on my head, and you expect me to believe you’re not acting on orders?’
Damien spins so sharply that Leïto takes a step back. The cold fury in his eyes sends a shiver down Leïto’s spine.
‘I haven’t followed orders for two years,’ Damien hisses. ‘If I had you’d have been arrested in October 2011.’
‘What?’ Leïto doesn't follow. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You remember, don’t you,’ Damien asks sardonically, ‘the month the wall was supposed to come down? It never occurred to you why I didn’t make contact when the government changed the deal?’
Leïto shakes his head. He's asked himself the same question every day for two years without answer.
‘Because that’s exactly what the commissaire wanted. They tailed me for days, even bugged my phone, and when that didn't work I got orders to track you down.' Damien smirks. ‘So I played along, recruited the best men-and always made sure we arrived just a minute too late.’
Leïto can hardly believe his ears. All those narrow escapes, thinking each time was the last...He swallows thickly as Damien continues.
‘It worked for a while-you’re a hard man to hang onto. But they got wise eventually. I was reassigned, sent out recruiting, anything to keep me out of the city.’ He gives a bitter laugh, eyes glinting fiercely, and jabs his finger in Leïto’s chest. ‘I know they’re still watching me. That’s why I’ve stayed away. Until today, when I heard about the wall, and I knew you wouldn’t make it out alive.’ Leïto stands in stunned silence as Damien shakes his head and starts to back away. ‘But if you think you can prove me wrong, go right ahead. I’m done watching your back.’
Leïto feels like he’s been hit by a train. He jumps to catch up to Damien, grabbing his arm before he can lift the bike.
‘Damien, wait! I-’ He fumbles for the words to make things right. ‘I didn't know. I thought-’
‘That I’d betray you?’ Damien’s voice is cold. ‘Open your eyes, Leïto. The only time I ever lied to you was in the van the day we met, and that was only to stop a bomb. Some of us have values, remember?’
Leïto flinches. ‘I remember.’ His shoulders hunch miserably. 'I just...I fucked up, okay? I’m so used to hearing lies, maybe I don’t know when to believe the truth.’
‘Well you can believe this one.’ Damien folds his arms across his chest. ‘I always keep my word. It’s why I’m still on the force. You think it’s been easy, working for a system that betrayed us all? No, but I still have a job to do.’ He jerks his chin at Leïto. ‘That includes helping some fool punk who thinks he can solve everything by getting himself killed.’
Leïto doesn’t know what to say. He'd been so consumed by his own anger he had never considered that an honest cop might also have cause to resent the government. He looks at Damien as if for the first time, stomach twisting with guilt when he spots the darkening bruise on his temple.
‘You’re right,’ he groans finally. ‘I've been a fool. I should have believed you.'
'Just like I should have listened to you about the bomb.' Damien's tone is wry. 'It's hard to let that guard down, isn't it?'
Leïto lets out a shaky breath. 'Yeah,' he nods, and Damien finally smiles a little.
'Just do me a favour from now on.' He holds his hand out between them. 'Trust me.'
Leïto meets his steady gaze. There is nothing there to doubt, and maybe deep down he knew it all along. Maybe if he hadn’t wanted to so badly, he’d have let himself believe it sooner. He takes Damien’s hand.
‘Deal.’
Damien smiles for real this time, but Leïto frowns at the bruise above his ear.
'Sorry about that,' he grimaces.
Damien's eyebrow lifts. 'I don't break that easily.'
'I noticed,' Leïto snorts. He's very glad his misjudgment didn't lead to another brutal battle like their showdown on the roof all those months ago. He doesn't want to fight anymore, not unless it's together, facing a common enemy. He bends to help Damien stand the motorcycle and leans against it. 'So what now?'
'We wait.' Damien checks his watch, then starts peeling off his jacket. 'When the units move on, you cover up.' He hands Leïto the jacket and raps his knuckles on the helmet. 'Then we sneak out.'
'What about you?' Leïto objects. 'Won't they be looking for you now, too?'
'Maybe,' Damien shrugs, 'but they don't know about the bike.' He grins and pulls a beanie and sunglasses from the pocket of his cargo pants. 'Besides, I've got these just in case.'
'Prepared for everything, eh?' Leïto shakes his head, impressed.
'Not everything.' Damien's smile fades, deepening the shadows under his eyes. He settles next to Leïto with a weary sigh. 'Never thought I'd be undercover from my own agents.'
Leïto has a sudden urge to smooth the lines of worry from his face, but that's a right he hasn't earned. Instead he puts his hand on Damien's shoulder.
'You're doing the right thing, Damien.’
‘Maybe.’ Damien doesn’t sound convinced. ‘Sometimes I think I should have quit the force when I found out about the wall.’
Leïto blinks in surprise. ‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I already told you,’ Damien says shortly. ‘You were a lot safer with me on the job than anyone else.’
An absurd, impossible realization grips Leïto as he catches the hint of concern behind Damien's irritation, but he pushes it aside, feeling sick. Damien must have been through hell the past two years, and he’d repaid him by picking a fight and accusing him of betrayal.
‘Damien,’ he starts uneasily, ‘you didn’t have to-’
‘Try to help?’ Damien interrupts, eyes hard. ‘Come on, Leïto, you saved my life. Think I could just let you rot after I promised everything would be okay for Banlieue 13? I don’t work like that.’
'That's the problem, isn't it?' Leïto huffs a humourless laugh. 'It'd be a lot simpler if you lied to me like everyone else.'
Damien looks up sharply. 'What do you mean?'
‘All my life,’ Leïto sighs, ‘people have been giving up on Banlieue 13, giving up on me. Why didn’t you?'
Damien’s brow furrows. ‘I thought I made it clear two years ago,' he says, and Leïto's pulse jumps again, his certainty growing as Damien continues. 'You’re not scum, Leïto. You got a shitty hand, but you deserve a chance, same as everyone else.’
‘You sure about that?’ Leïto scoffs, disgusted with himself. His gaze lingers on Damien’s battered temple. ‘After what I just did I don’t deserve your help.’
‘Yeah, well, I knew what I was getting into,’ Damien says drily. ‘At least you didn’t headbutt me this time.’
Leïto groans. ‘I thought about it!’ he admits, and Damien chuckles.
‘Figures.’ He sits up straighter, expression serious once more. ‘Look, Leïto, I don’t blame you for doubting me. A lot can change in two years. But I’m still the same asshole who wants to make the government keep their promises.’ He nudges Leïto’s elbow. ‘What do you want?’
Leïto’s breath catches. Damien’s gaze is open, expectant, and suddenly Leïto is tired of avoiding the truth. If his suspicions are right he can't afford to waste another two years.
‘The same thing I wanted last time we met,’ he says finally. ‘Maybe I couldn’t risk it then, but now...’ He reaches out to cup Damien’s jaw, hoping the gesture will show what he can’t find the words to say. ‘I’m done playing safe.’
‘Leïto...’ Damien’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t pull away. ‘What are you doing?’
'What I should have done a long time ago.' With a deep breath Leïto leans forward and brings their mouths together.
Damien makes a muffled noise of surprise. Then his hand comes up to cover Leïto’s, curling their fingers together while his other arm curves across Leïto’s shoulders. Leïto scoots nearer, clutching a fistful of Damien’s shirt, and shivers when callused fingers twist in his hair. He slides his hand down to the small of Damien’s back, hard muscles warm beneath his palm, and tries to press closer. Damien’s arm tightens around him as a low groan hums against his chest, sending a jolt of heat to his belly, and Leïto has to wrench away, dazed and shaking.
Damien turns his face into Leïto’s neck, voice hoarse when he finds the breath to speak. The words gust hotly against Leïto's ear. ‘I wish you had.’
Leïto pulls back slightly and blinks to clear the haze from his eyes. 'Had what?'
‘Done that before.’ Damien's hand lingers in spiky hair, and Leïto musters a rueful grin.
'Me, too.' He reaches out again, but Damien spreads a firm palm across his chest. His eyes glint in the dark.
'Then why don't we get out of here so you can make it up to me?'
'Yeah?' Leïto's smile widens, and Damien laughs and tugs him to his feet.
'Come on,' he says, pulling on his beanie, 'I know someplace we can lay low for a while.'
Leïto hastily shrugs into the zippered jacket. 'How long is 'a while'?'
Damien pivots swiftly, flashing a wolfish grin as he catches the front of Leïto's jacket and pins him against the bike. 'Long enough,' he says, and fuses their mouths again. Leïto's knees threaten to give way, but strong arms keep him from falling, and then he is gripping hard at Damien's sides and kissing him back with all the hunger of their long separation. Damien only clutches him more fiercely, bending him over the seat with insistent fingers sliding under his shirt. Leïto moans and hooks his leg over Damien’s hip, and this time Damien jerks away with a gasp.
‘Enough!’ he rasps, stumbling a little as he tries to straighten once more. ‘It’s not safe.’
Leïto fights to recover his breath, not loosening his hold. ‘I don’t care,’ he growls, and Damien shudders violently against him.
‘I do,’ he says huskily. His gaze flickers to the police radio, and the worry in his eyes clenches Leïto’s throat. ‘I’m not taking any chances this time.’
Leïto knows Damien is right. Reluctantly he lets go and smoothes the jacket, accepting the helmet without further protest. He waits for Damien to settle on the bike, then climbs on and leans close to murmur in his ear.
‘How fast can you drive, Fantômas?’
Leïto can feel the answering grin against his cheek as he scoots back and puts on the helmet, wrapping both arms around Damien’s chest. Damien revs the engine hard, twice, and backheels the kickstand. The motorcycle leaps forward, then Leïto has to squeeze his knees more tightly around Damien’s thighs to keep his balance when it cuts sideways in a slick U-turn. Leïto smirks and pinches Damien’s leg, sharp laughter rumbling against his chest as they zoom down the platform. Pressed securely to Damien’s back, warm belly taut beneath his palms, Leïto almost wishes the tunnel went on forever. But Damien’s hand closes briefly over his in unspoken pledge, and Leïto remembers what waits at the end of it. After all the time they’ve lost, nothing-not snipers or bombs or helicopters-will keep him from matching that promise.
In other news, I've done another fic, because one ticket to special hell just isn't enough. *facepalm* This one is all _backpages_'s fault. She asked for Damien on a bike, preferably wearing Rand's jacket from Live Free or Die Hard, and it is the season of giving.
Title: L’échappatoire
Fandom: Banlieue 13-Ultimatum
Summary: Leïto needs a way out. An old acquaintance could be the ticket, but all is not as it seems. 2,978 words, rated M.
Disclaimer: Ce n’est pas à moi.
AN: The title means escape, with the added connotation of loophole. I reckon Leïto knows a few things about those.
L’échappatoire
Leïto’s time is nearly up. Approaching siren wails grow deafening as he places the last bomb and yanks the cord. A moment later the wall explodes in a shower of rubble, spattering two police cars that screech into view, but Leïto is already sprinting for the cover of the nearby parking garage. He launches himself sideways off the wall to hurdle a third cruiser when it careens into his path and outstrips the two patrolman pursuing him on foot. Just as Leïto enters the garage, a transport van swerves up behind him and spills several units of special forces operatives.
Leïto doesn’t look back. He hurtles diagonally through the empty garage, ducking behind heavy concrete pillars as shots ring out in the distance. Within seconds he clears the opposite end of the building and bursts out into the open, angling for the condemned apartments a few blocks away. He’s counting on a clear shot; the street has long been closed for construction that went the way of every other service promised to Banlieue 13.
Suddenly Leïto hears an engine roar on the other side of the blockade. He immediately checks his run, searching for another avenue of escape. In that instant a sleek black motorcycle soars over the barricade and skids to a halt in front of him.
Though Leïto doesn’t recognize the rider’s canvas jacket from any police uniform he’s not about to take chances, or miss the perfect break he’s just been handed. But before he can move, the rider calls out in a voice he hasn’t heard for two years.
‘Get on, Leïto!’
Leïto gapes in disbelief as the rider whips off his helmet, revealing familiar buzzed hair and sharp blue eyes.
‘Move it, asshole,’ Damien barks again, ‘or we’re both dead!’
There’s no time to ask questions. Whistles and heavy footsteps echo down the street toward them, and the low hum of a helicopter sounds over the purr of the bike. Damien’s offer could be a trap, but Leïto is dead either way. He clambers aboard.
‘Here!’ Damien thrusts the helmet into his hands and wrenches the handlebar.
Leïto crams the helmet over his head as the bike surges forward in a cloud of dust. He scrambles for a better grip on Damien’s jacket, ducking his head against the wind. They jolt through the construction zone, jumping holes and debris, and speed past the vacant apartments.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Leïto shouts as Damien veers into the abandoned metro station and aims for the stairs.
‘Saving your fucking life!’ Damien yells back. ‘Hold on!’ The bike shudders violently, but they clear the stairs and roar down one of the tracks. Leïto clenches his arms more tightly around Damien’s waist and tries to follow their mazy progress amongst the platforms. He has completely lost all sense of direction when Damien finally swerves into a dark tunnel and kills the engine.
‘What the-’
‘Shh!’ Damien cuts him off, fiddling with a box on the handlebars. There’s a short burst of static before a tinny voice repeats something about a suspect, and Leïto realizes it’s a police radio. They listen in tense silence for several minutes until it becomes obvious that the pursuing units have lost the trail. Leïto removes the helmet and slides off the bike. It's time for some answers. Then the radio crackles again and his blood goes cold.
'...any force necessary to apprehend. A reward of 2,000 euros has been posted for this target...repeat: all units be advised, target considered extremely dangerous...'
So that's it. Leïto's fists clench at his own stupidity as Damien turns off the radio and opens his mouth to speak. Leïto doesn't wait to hear another lie. With one swift motion he swings the helmet at Damien's temple and takes off sprinting down the tunnel.
'Fuck!' Damien's startled shout echoes along the walls behind him, followed by the snarl of the motorcycle flaring to life once more. 'Dammit, Leïto, stop!'
Leïto runs faster, squinting at the sudden glare when Damien's headlight beams into the darkness. He can hear the bike buzzing loudly behind him and steels himself for the fight. In the next moment Damien cuts the ignition and springs forward, knocking Leïto to the ground as the bike spins sideways into the tunnel wall.
They tumble painfully onto the unguarded rail and Leïto aims another punch at Damien’s jaw. Damien makes a hasty block, bringing his forearm down hard across Leïto’s windpipe, and knees him in the gut.
‘Cut it out, Leïto! I’m not here to fight you!’
‘No,’ Leïto spits, throwing Damien off him and scrambling to his feet, ‘just to claim your reward!’
Damien rolls to his knees, eyes wide, and Leïto could almost mistake his shock for hurt. ‘You think I’m after money?’
‘Doesn’t matter, superflic,’ Leïto pants, backing away, ‘because you’re not taking me in.’ He turns and vaults back onto the platform.
‘Go on, then, wiseass!’ Damien’s angry voice calls after him. ‘Take one step out of here and I won’t need to. You’ll be dead before you see daylight!’
Leïto hesitates. His eyes are adjusting to the dark but he has no idea where the tunnel leads or what might be waiting at the end of it. He hears Damien climb up from the track.
‘You heard the radio,’ the cop says softly. ‘There’s at least a dozen units looking for you, snipers on every roof, and helicopters circling the area. Every idiot with a gun or a slingshot’s gonna be after that reward, and they won’t be picky with their aim.’
‘So what?’ Leïto whirls to face him. ‘If I play nice and go with you I get to live?’ He shakes his head, mouth hard. ‘I’d rather take my chances.’
‘Don’t you get it?’ Damien growls, suddenly three steps nearer, and whips the back of his hand across Leïto’s cheek. ‘I’m not taking you in!’
Leïto stares at him, holding his jaw in surprise. Damien turns away. His voice is rough when he speaks again.
‘After all this time you really think I’d find you just to send you to jail?’
Leïto frowns at Damien’s back, for the first time noticing the tense set of his shoulders. Maybe he was wrong, but his instincts have kept him alive this long.
‘What was I supposed to think?’ he demands. ‘You turn up out of nowhere after two years, just as your pals on the force put a price on my head, and you expect me to believe you’re not acting on orders?’
Damien spins so sharply that Leïto takes a step back. The cold fury in his eyes sends a shiver down Leïto’s spine.
‘I haven’t followed orders for two years,’ Damien hisses. ‘If I had you’d have been arrested in October 2011.’
‘What?’ Leïto doesn't follow. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You remember, don’t you,’ Damien asks sardonically, ‘the month the wall was supposed to come down? It never occurred to you why I didn’t make contact when the government changed the deal?’
Leïto shakes his head. He's asked himself the same question every day for two years without answer.
‘Because that’s exactly what the commissaire wanted. They tailed me for days, even bugged my phone, and when that didn't work I got orders to track you down.' Damien smirks. ‘So I played along, recruited the best men-and always made sure we arrived just a minute too late.’
Leïto can hardly believe his ears. All those narrow escapes, thinking each time was the last...He swallows thickly as Damien continues.
‘It worked for a while-you’re a hard man to hang onto. But they got wise eventually. I was reassigned, sent out recruiting, anything to keep me out of the city.’ He gives a bitter laugh, eyes glinting fiercely, and jabs his finger in Leïto’s chest. ‘I know they’re still watching me. That’s why I’ve stayed away. Until today, when I heard about the wall, and I knew you wouldn’t make it out alive.’ Leïto stands in stunned silence as Damien shakes his head and starts to back away. ‘But if you think you can prove me wrong, go right ahead. I’m done watching your back.’
Leïto feels like he’s been hit by a train. He jumps to catch up to Damien, grabbing his arm before he can lift the bike.
‘Damien, wait! I-’ He fumbles for the words to make things right. ‘I didn't know. I thought-’
‘That I’d betray you?’ Damien’s voice is cold. ‘Open your eyes, Leïto. The only time I ever lied to you was in the van the day we met, and that was only to stop a bomb. Some of us have values, remember?’
Leïto flinches. ‘I remember.’ His shoulders hunch miserably. 'I just...I fucked up, okay? I’m so used to hearing lies, maybe I don’t know when to believe the truth.’
‘Well you can believe this one.’ Damien folds his arms across his chest. ‘I always keep my word. It’s why I’m still on the force. You think it’s been easy, working for a system that betrayed us all? No, but I still have a job to do.’ He jerks his chin at Leïto. ‘That includes helping some fool punk who thinks he can solve everything by getting himself killed.’
Leïto doesn’t know what to say. He'd been so consumed by his own anger he had never considered that an honest cop might also have cause to resent the government. He looks at Damien as if for the first time, stomach twisting with guilt when he spots the darkening bruise on his temple.
‘You’re right,’ he groans finally. ‘I've been a fool. I should have believed you.'
'Just like I should have listened to you about the bomb.' Damien's tone is wry. 'It's hard to let that guard down, isn't it?'
Leïto lets out a shaky breath. 'Yeah,' he nods, and Damien finally smiles a little.
'Just do me a favour from now on.' He holds his hand out between them. 'Trust me.'
Leïto meets his steady gaze. There is nothing there to doubt, and maybe deep down he knew it all along. Maybe if he hadn’t wanted to so badly, he’d have let himself believe it sooner. He takes Damien’s hand.
‘Deal.’
Damien smiles for real this time, but Leïto frowns at the bruise above his ear.
'Sorry about that,' he grimaces.
Damien's eyebrow lifts. 'I don't break that easily.'
'I noticed,' Leïto snorts. He's very glad his misjudgment didn't lead to another brutal battle like their showdown on the roof all those months ago. He doesn't want to fight anymore, not unless it's together, facing a common enemy. He bends to help Damien stand the motorcycle and leans against it. 'So what now?'
'We wait.' Damien checks his watch, then starts peeling off his jacket. 'When the units move on, you cover up.' He hands Leïto the jacket and raps his knuckles on the helmet. 'Then we sneak out.'
'What about you?' Leïto objects. 'Won't they be looking for you now, too?'
'Maybe,' Damien shrugs, 'but they don't know about the bike.' He grins and pulls a beanie and sunglasses from the pocket of his cargo pants. 'Besides, I've got these just in case.'
'Prepared for everything, eh?' Leïto shakes his head, impressed.
'Not everything.' Damien's smile fades, deepening the shadows under his eyes. He settles next to Leïto with a weary sigh. 'Never thought I'd be undercover from my own agents.'
Leïto has a sudden urge to smooth the lines of worry from his face, but that's a right he hasn't earned. Instead he puts his hand on Damien's shoulder.
'You're doing the right thing, Damien.’
‘Maybe.’ Damien doesn’t sound convinced. ‘Sometimes I think I should have quit the force when I found out about the wall.’
Leïto blinks in surprise. ‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I already told you,’ Damien says shortly. ‘You were a lot safer with me on the job than anyone else.’
An absurd, impossible realization grips Leïto as he catches the hint of concern behind Damien's irritation, but he pushes it aside, feeling sick. Damien must have been through hell the past two years, and he’d repaid him by picking a fight and accusing him of betrayal.
‘Damien,’ he starts uneasily, ‘you didn’t have to-’
‘Try to help?’ Damien interrupts, eyes hard. ‘Come on, Leïto, you saved my life. Think I could just let you rot after I promised everything would be okay for Banlieue 13? I don’t work like that.’
'That's the problem, isn't it?' Leïto huffs a humourless laugh. 'It'd be a lot simpler if you lied to me like everyone else.'
Damien looks up sharply. 'What do you mean?'
‘All my life,’ Leïto sighs, ‘people have been giving up on Banlieue 13, giving up on me. Why didn’t you?'
Damien’s brow furrows. ‘I thought I made it clear two years ago,' he says, and Leïto's pulse jumps again, his certainty growing as Damien continues. 'You’re not scum, Leïto. You got a shitty hand, but you deserve a chance, same as everyone else.’
‘You sure about that?’ Leïto scoffs, disgusted with himself. His gaze lingers on Damien’s battered temple. ‘After what I just did I don’t deserve your help.’
‘Yeah, well, I knew what I was getting into,’ Damien says drily. ‘At least you didn’t headbutt me this time.’
Leïto groans. ‘I thought about it!’ he admits, and Damien chuckles.
‘Figures.’ He sits up straighter, expression serious once more. ‘Look, Leïto, I don’t blame you for doubting me. A lot can change in two years. But I’m still the same asshole who wants to make the government keep their promises.’ He nudges Leïto’s elbow. ‘What do you want?’
Leïto’s breath catches. Damien’s gaze is open, expectant, and suddenly Leïto is tired of avoiding the truth. If his suspicions are right he can't afford to waste another two years.
‘The same thing I wanted last time we met,’ he says finally. ‘Maybe I couldn’t risk it then, but now...’ He reaches out to cup Damien’s jaw, hoping the gesture will show what he can’t find the words to say. ‘I’m done playing safe.’
‘Leïto...’ Damien’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t pull away. ‘What are you doing?’
'What I should have done a long time ago.' With a deep breath Leïto leans forward and brings their mouths together.
Damien makes a muffled noise of surprise. Then his hand comes up to cover Leïto’s, curling their fingers together while his other arm curves across Leïto’s shoulders. Leïto scoots nearer, clutching a fistful of Damien’s shirt, and shivers when callused fingers twist in his hair. He slides his hand down to the small of Damien’s back, hard muscles warm beneath his palm, and tries to press closer. Damien’s arm tightens around him as a low groan hums against his chest, sending a jolt of heat to his belly, and Leïto has to wrench away, dazed and shaking.
Damien turns his face into Leïto’s neck, voice hoarse when he finds the breath to speak. The words gust hotly against Leïto's ear. ‘I wish you had.’
Leïto pulls back slightly and blinks to clear the haze from his eyes. 'Had what?'
‘Done that before.’ Damien's hand lingers in spiky hair, and Leïto musters a rueful grin.
'Me, too.' He reaches out again, but Damien spreads a firm palm across his chest. His eyes glint in the dark.
'Then why don't we get out of here so you can make it up to me?'
'Yeah?' Leïto's smile widens, and Damien laughs and tugs him to his feet.
'Come on,' he says, pulling on his beanie, 'I know someplace we can lay low for a while.'
Leïto hastily shrugs into the zippered jacket. 'How long is 'a while'?'
Damien pivots swiftly, flashing a wolfish grin as he catches the front of Leïto's jacket and pins him against the bike. 'Long enough,' he says, and fuses their mouths again. Leïto's knees threaten to give way, but strong arms keep him from falling, and then he is gripping hard at Damien's sides and kissing him back with all the hunger of their long separation. Damien only clutches him more fiercely, bending him over the seat with insistent fingers sliding under his shirt. Leïto moans and hooks his leg over Damien’s hip, and this time Damien jerks away with a gasp.
‘Enough!’ he rasps, stumbling a little as he tries to straighten once more. ‘It’s not safe.’
Leïto fights to recover his breath, not loosening his hold. ‘I don’t care,’ he growls, and Damien shudders violently against him.
‘I do,’ he says huskily. His gaze flickers to the police radio, and the worry in his eyes clenches Leïto’s throat. ‘I’m not taking any chances this time.’
Leïto knows Damien is right. Reluctantly he lets go and smoothes the jacket, accepting the helmet without further protest. He waits for Damien to settle on the bike, then climbs on and leans close to murmur in his ear.
‘How fast can you drive, Fantômas?’
Leïto can feel the answering grin against his cheek as he scoots back and puts on the helmet, wrapping both arms around Damien’s chest. Damien revs the engine hard, twice, and backheels the kickstand. The motorcycle leaps forward, then Leïto has to squeeze his knees more tightly around Damien’s thighs to keep his balance when it cuts sideways in a slick U-turn. Leïto smirks and pinches Damien’s leg, sharp laughter rumbling against his chest as they zoom down the platform. Pressed securely to Damien’s back, warm belly taut beneath his palms, Leïto almost wishes the tunnel went on forever. But Damien’s hand closes briefly over his in unspoken pledge, and Leïto remembers what waits at the end of it. After all the time they’ve lost, nothing-not snipers or bombs or helicopters-will keep him from matching that promise.