The Secret Reunion (2/8) [NC-17]
Title: "The Secret Reunion" (2/8)
Fandom: K-pop/SHINee
Genre: Action/Adventure/Romance
Pairing: OnTae (Onew/Taemin)
Rating: NC-17 (blood, violence, sex, oh yeahs)
Word Count: > 3000
Summary: Lee Jinki is a clumsy but well-meaning agent for the South Korean National Intelligence Service (NIS). Lee Taemin is a protegé of the Shadow, a seasoned and bloodthirsty North Korean assassin. When a job goes wrong for both men, their respective agencies and nations abandon them. Six years later, a union is formed as the two pretend not to know each other, hoping to use the other to achieve their own ends.
[One day after "the incident".]
Two men sat in the waiting area at the NIS headquarters, sighing heavily as they waited for their respective fates. Taesoon's phone rang, and he glanced at the number before picking it up. With a glance toward the NIS agent beside him, he slowly passed over the phone.
Jinki picked it up and began to speak. "Hello. I'm the agent leading this case...now, I want you to know that we don't want to hurt you, and we're not after you at all. We're looking for the Shadow; if you can help us, I promise I will help you and Taesoon. We'll take care of both of you, as long as you help us. Taesoon tells me that you graduated from Kim Jung-il's military school...that's all I know of you. I don't know your name, or anything else about you. I don't even know your face." He'd stood and walked over to the board they'd been using to keep the pictures from that day's fiasco, and paused at the one he'd had Taesoon circle and place a note on that read his friend's name clearly: Lee Taemin. The one that got away...well, one of the two that got away. Technically. He focused back on the phone conversation, realizing Taemin had said nothing still. "Here, I'll give you my private number in case you wish to contact me. Memorize it. 01-085-472--"
The line went dead.
"Son of a bitch!" he groaned and threw the cell phone across the room, sighing as he sank to the floor. That was their only hope of a lead on the Shadow. Now he knew for sure his job would be gone; he was useless to the agency.
[Six years later.]
Jinki glared as he hung up the phone from another failed talk with his son, looking across the street to where his two "employees" were supposed to be hanging up an advertisment for their business. "Yah! That's crooked--fix it! I'm paying you nuts $1,500 each...you're nothing but highway robbers!" he barked, rolling his eyes at the bumbling idiots he'd hired. He wasn't even trying to be mean, but these two young men were probably the most dim-witted human beings he'd ever encountered. If he hadn't been trying to do their parents a favor by taking them under his wing, and if he could do this job on his own, he wouldn't have even bothered with them. Finally, after much babbling and tugging and heaving from Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum, the sign was up and at an angle so passersby could read it: 'Private Investigation Agency - Specializing in Returning Runaway Children and Teens to Their Families'.
The tall man wearing a light grey suit walked into the police station, taking off his sunglasses to reveal handsome features and tired-looking eyes as he walked up to the newly-promoted chief of police and shook his hand. "Congratulations--you deserve this," he said to his friend, smiling. "So, you wanted to ask me something?"
"Jinki-ssi," the chief said with a warm smile at his friend of several years. "You really didn't have to come out on such a hot day as this; since you did, though, there is something I'd like you to help me with," he said and motioned the other toward a chair so he could shuffle through some papers on his desk and find what he was looking for. Finally he came across a set of three 'wanted' bulletins, and handed them over to the other man. "We've been trying to catch these bastards for a long time," he said with a heavy sigh. "These Vietnamese are notorious con artists, but their latest scheme is probably one of the worst our little region has seen in a long time. They offer to take in runaways off the street, on the condition that they go to work for them to pay for their housing and food. Then they put them to work in the construction yard they run; it's child labor, it's illegal, and it's causing a lot of people a lot of problems." He motioned toward the paper Jinki was currently holding. "That's the ring leader--he's half-Korean, but honestly he's worse than the Vietnamese. I'm going to give you the address for the construction yard...go this weekend, on Friday night. There's a game, and the boss is nuts about soccer. You'll definitely be able to find him there."
Jinki nodded and took the three papers, sticking them in his coat pocket and bowing as he made his exit. He'd have to take the idiots along on this job, but hopefully it would all work out okay...it was rare they got to do something this serious; if he was being honest, he was looking forward to it.
The three men walked into the construction yard, grabbing some Vietnamese flags from some women by the entrance and walking under the scaffolding into the main area where all were alive with excitement. Some women were singing and waving in traditional clothes from the back of a pickup truck, and several men were playing on drums every time a goal was scored. A few screens had been set up around the area, and hundreds of construction workers were drinking and waving their flags excitedly at the ongoing game. Jinki climbed up into the scaffolding, instructing his two workers to fan out and start looking for the men they were meant to capture that evening. He stared down at the crowd, keeping back into the shadows so he wouldn't be seen and trying to figure out where the boss was. Finally he spotted a man in a gaudy white suit and a Yankees cap, sitting in a lawn chair with a beer in one hand and a flag in the other. The man appeared to be talking to some men and women gathered around him...he looked important enough to be the boss, but he couldn't be sure. "Chansung-ah," he called into the radio he'd brought so they could communicate while separated, "do you see the big guy in the white suit, to your right? I can't be sure from my position, but he looks like our guy...can you confirm?"
Jinki wasn't sure what he expected from his fool of a worker; maybe he expected a simple "I'unno" in return, or something equally unhelpful. What he did not expect, which of course was exactly what happened, was for the idiot to march right over to the man in question, bend a little to get a good look at him, and then turn to give him a thumbs up. "I think it's him...should I grab him?" were the words that came over the radio, and Jinki was this close to having an aneurysm as he ducked and tried to stay hidden from anyone who might be curious about his worker's behavior. "Are you crazy?!" he hissed into the radio. "Do you want to get yourself killed or something?? Get out of there, now!"
He stood again and started down the scaffolding, turning to try and see where Chansung had gone. When he couldn't see him anywhere, he began looking for his brother and finally spotted him among a group of the workers, drinking and waving his flag like he was just another fan. "You idiot! We're not here to party, damn it--go look for Chansung, I can't find him and I think he's in trouble!" he called out over the channel, hurrying down and trying to see if he could find the guy in the white suit again...the game was over; had they really missed their opportunity so easily?
It wasn't five minutes until he heard the radio beep and Chansung's voice to come over the receiver. "Um...boss, we're kinda screwed here." Jinki's eye twitched as he tried to locate the others by their clothing and finally spotted what he thought was them around the back of the yard. "I'll be right there, hang on," he said and broke into a jog, hurrying to make sure his employees weren't brutally murdered or something. That just wouldn't be good, not at all. When he did finally make it to the others' position, he sighed heavily at their stupidity. There were just three men there, including the boss; still, each looked relatively harmless compared to the chaos he was sure the dumb duo could unleash through no fault of their own. "You two are going to be the death of me..." he groaned as he walked toward them and gave each a slap on the back of the head.
That was when he heard a sound from behind him, something like wood hitting the palm of a hand; he turned slowly and found he was absolutely right...there were at least ten more workers standing behind them, each wielding something that looked at the least unpleasantly painful at at the most deadly. "Shit..." he muttered under his breath and quickly pulled his gun out of his pocket; of course he couldn't have a real one, since he was technically a civilian now, but there was nothing in the law about carrying a gas gun. He pointed it toward the crowd of men, staring them down and sighing heavily when they looked completely un-intimidated and instead began to rush toward them, makeshift weapons held high. "You two take the big guy, I'll deal with these," he said confidently and turned to ready himself for the fight to come. When he heard the sound of screams from behind him, though, he couldn't help but turn. The two men had banded together, all right...they were running off into the trees at the edge of the yard, leaving him behind to deal with their problem.
"You idiots! Come back here!" he called, but suddenly he couldn't have said anything if he wanted to because the wind was knocked out of him and it was just a tumbling pile of arms and legs, and he was caught in the middle. He flailed wildly, kicking and punching wherever he could and trying to land as many hits on the men as possible to make up for the serious beating he was taking. He finally managed to stand and back away a few paces, grabbing his gun and shooting a couple clouds of gas at the crowd of angered workers before being overtaken once more. He could feel that they were rolling down some kind of embankment, but he was a little too busy getting the shit kicked out of him to really care where they were going at that point. He threw a few more well-placed punches and kicked one man's jaw before he felt something like rope being wrapped around him from all angles; within moments he was completely immobile, kneeling there with a bunch of angrily jabbering men surrounding him. Just a second later, one of the men pulled out a knife and his eyes widened considerably. "No! Stop it! Get a--guh..." His shouts were interrupted as he was shoved painfully onto his side, the wind being knocked from his lungs for the second time that night as suddenly his captors were being flung in all directions as if by some unstoppable force.
That force was a slender young man in jeans, a leather jacket, and a ball cap, who had broken into the circle of men and started pushing and kicking them away from their "prey". The workers, having spotted a new target for their rage, rushed at the man and were immediately made into human-sized rag dolls, their bodies flying through the air as they were thrown and kicked back from the more experienced and graceful fighter. God, was he ever graceful. Jinki watched through half-lidded eyes as the man seemed to dance around his enemies, the tall and lithe form bending this way and that to avoid blows and bending right back to deliver them with no mercy and no holding back. He was like a force of destruction, but a destruction so controlled and flawless that it was probably the most beautiful display Jinki had ever seen. He was like a god, tearing the world to pieces meticulously and remaking it into something strange and wonderful.
"Enough!" the low tenor cried out to the workers in their own native tongue. "Get out of here before I call the police, all of you," he said from behind what Jinki thought appeared to be a white surgical mask--was he a worker in the yard, too? The men stood and glared at them, groaning at their various wounds and looking like they hadn't yet decided whether the man's threat was real or not. Finally the boss walked up, barking at all of them to get out of there and not cause any more trouble. He turned to the man who'd saved Jinki first and spoke. "I'm letting you go because we won the game tonight..." he said with a huff, then fixed Jinki with a glare. "You...I will kill you if we meet again." He spat on the ground beside Jinki and turned to walk away, his men dispersing along with him into the night.
Jinki was still laying helplessly on his side, watching all this unfold, but suddenly he was pulled up to a sitting position and felt the bonds that had held him being cut. He rubbed his wrists, hissing at the pain he felt before looking at the man who saved him, who'd knelt to help him up. "Are you alright..?" the man asked softly, his Korean sounding much more natural than the gibberish he'd been speaking before.
"Yeah...thanks for that," he said as he tried to get the rest of the rope off of him. He glanced up again quickly at the other's face and was taken aback by what he saw there now that no mask hid his features.
He knew that face.
Lee Taemin.
He had to think fast, so as he had already done a double take he made up a reason for such odd behavior. "Ah! You're Korean..." he said as if in shock. "How can you speak Vietnamese so well?"
The slightly taller youth shrugged slightly. "Most of our workers here are Vietnamese, so I picked it up out of convenience." Jinki just nodded, figuring as long as he played dumb he could get out of this situation and go regroup or formulate some plan...he'd need to get Taemin as close as possible so he could find the right time and the right way to turn him over to the NIS. Then maybe he'd get his job back...everything would be normal again, at last...
"Say, what's your name?" he asked curiously, staring up into the killer's face now with no trace of familiarity on his features.
"Why?" was the response, and Jinki couldn't help but wither a bit at the insolence he was receiving from the young man. Seriously, he was at least four years this guy's senior. Then again, he was a Northerner...disrespect was something they did very well.
"Well, I would like to thank the person who saved me," he said, and even as he said it he could feel that he sounded like some ex-damsel in distress, trying to thank her handsome knight in shining armor. The man was handsome, that much was true, but that didn't make his behavior any more sensible. Oh well...he was accustomed to being the "odd" one.
"No need to thank me. Just go home and treat your wounds," the young man said softly, and Jinki couldn't help but feel a little tightening in his chest. This bastard was pretending to be a caring, normal person when in reality he was nothing more than a cold-blooded killer. Stupid son of a bitch, being all weird and kind and stuff. Just then, a worker appeared near the edge of the scaffolding and motioned for the man. "Yoojin-ssi!" he called, and the man stood silently and began to walk away, leaving Jinki with no more than a fake first name to go on. He had to do something...he had to have a reason for contacting Taemin--or Yoojin, apparently--again.
"Hey!" he called, and was relieved to see the other stop, if a bit hesitantly. "Um, I know this is weird to ask you like this, but...how would you like to come and work for me?" he asked with a friendly smile. Damn, he was such a good actor.
"I'm fine where I am, thanks."
Jinki had to work very hard so his eye wouldn't twitch and give away his irritation. "What was your name again...Yoojin-ssi? Like I said, I know it's weird and stuff, but with your fighting skills and your agility, you're practically a natural in this line of work I'm in." He stepped forward and pulled out a business card, handing it to the man and smiling. "It's a legitimate field, and comes highly recommended; besides, it will get you out of this nasty construction business. What do you say?"
The other sighed visibly, looking at him and shaking his head slightly. "I like my current work," was all he said before turning around and walking away, tucking the card into his jeans' back pocket.
"Well, um, think about it and...yeah, goodbye," Jinki said awkwardly and sighed, turning to walk back toward his jeep so he could finally go home. When he saw his two current employees come out of the trees and walk toward him, he glared. "Key. Now," he said and caught the key from Chansung. "Go home...stop wasting your lives, both of you," he said and walked off toward the vehicle amidst cries of "Hey, boss!" and "Oh man, he's really leaving us??".
A figure stood just behind a curtain of heavy plastic that was hanging from the scaffolding, watching the NIS agent walk back to his vehicle and leave his two worthless workers in the dust. He slid the knife he'd been holding in his palm back into the inner pocket of his jacket, somehow grateful that he hadn't needed to use it. He pulled out the business card and glanced at it.
"Lee Jinki...we meet again," he said as he turned and walked back into the shadows.
A/N: Because LJ wouldn't let me post an author's note last night, because it's being stupid.....this is edited in.
So, Taemin's last line is a little cliché. But oh well; I like him like that. XD Also, does anyone have a clue as to why the rich text editor is giving me a 404 error from within the editor? O__O It's crazy!
And finally: this is where I start to really change up some things, but I'm not going to go through the exhaustive list of "things altered from the movie to be more fanfic-appropriate or useful for the plot". Just watch the movie, you'll see.
Fandom: K-pop/SHINee
Genre: Action/Adventure/Romance
Pairing: OnTae (Onew/Taemin)
Rating: NC-17 (blood, violence, sex, oh yeahs)
Word Count: > 3000
Summary: Lee Jinki is a clumsy but well-meaning agent for the South Korean National Intelligence Service (NIS). Lee Taemin is a protegé of the Shadow, a seasoned and bloodthirsty North Korean assassin. When a job goes wrong for both men, their respective agencies and nations abandon them. Six years later, a union is formed as the two pretend not to know each other, hoping to use the other to achieve their own ends.
[One day after "the incident".]
Two men sat in the waiting area at the NIS headquarters, sighing heavily as they waited for their respective fates. Taesoon's phone rang, and he glanced at the number before picking it up. With a glance toward the NIS agent beside him, he slowly passed over the phone.
Jinki picked it up and began to speak. "Hello. I'm the agent leading this case...now, I want you to know that we don't want to hurt you, and we're not after you at all. We're looking for the Shadow; if you can help us, I promise I will help you and Taesoon. We'll take care of both of you, as long as you help us. Taesoon tells me that you graduated from Kim Jung-il's military school...that's all I know of you. I don't know your name, or anything else about you. I don't even know your face." He'd stood and walked over to the board they'd been using to keep the pictures from that day's fiasco, and paused at the one he'd had Taesoon circle and place a note on that read his friend's name clearly: Lee Taemin. The one that got away...well, one of the two that got away. Technically. He focused back on the phone conversation, realizing Taemin had said nothing still. "Here, I'll give you my private number in case you wish to contact me. Memorize it. 01-085-472--"
The line went dead.
"Son of a bitch!" he groaned and threw the cell phone across the room, sighing as he sank to the floor. That was their only hope of a lead on the Shadow. Now he knew for sure his job would be gone; he was useless to the agency.
[Six years later.]
Jinki glared as he hung up the phone from another failed talk with his son, looking across the street to where his two "employees" were supposed to be hanging up an advertisment for their business. "Yah! That's crooked--fix it! I'm paying you nuts $1,500 each...you're nothing but highway robbers!" he barked, rolling his eyes at the bumbling idiots he'd hired. He wasn't even trying to be mean, but these two young men were probably the most dim-witted human beings he'd ever encountered. If he hadn't been trying to do their parents a favor by taking them under his wing, and if he could do this job on his own, he wouldn't have even bothered with them. Finally, after much babbling and tugging and heaving from Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum, the sign was up and at an angle so passersby could read it: 'Private Investigation Agency - Specializing in Returning Runaway Children and Teens to Their Families'.
The tall man wearing a light grey suit walked into the police station, taking off his sunglasses to reveal handsome features and tired-looking eyes as he walked up to the newly-promoted chief of police and shook his hand. "Congratulations--you deserve this," he said to his friend, smiling. "So, you wanted to ask me something?"
"Jinki-ssi," the chief said with a warm smile at his friend of several years. "You really didn't have to come out on such a hot day as this; since you did, though, there is something I'd like you to help me with," he said and motioned the other toward a chair so he could shuffle through some papers on his desk and find what he was looking for. Finally he came across a set of three 'wanted' bulletins, and handed them over to the other man. "We've been trying to catch these bastards for a long time," he said with a heavy sigh. "These Vietnamese are notorious con artists, but their latest scheme is probably one of the worst our little region has seen in a long time. They offer to take in runaways off the street, on the condition that they go to work for them to pay for their housing and food. Then they put them to work in the construction yard they run; it's child labor, it's illegal, and it's causing a lot of people a lot of problems." He motioned toward the paper Jinki was currently holding. "That's the ring leader--he's half-Korean, but honestly he's worse than the Vietnamese. I'm going to give you the address for the construction yard...go this weekend, on Friday night. There's a game, and the boss is nuts about soccer. You'll definitely be able to find him there."
Jinki nodded and took the three papers, sticking them in his coat pocket and bowing as he made his exit. He'd have to take the idiots along on this job, but hopefully it would all work out okay...it was rare they got to do something this serious; if he was being honest, he was looking forward to it.
The three men walked into the construction yard, grabbing some Vietnamese flags from some women by the entrance and walking under the scaffolding into the main area where all were alive with excitement. Some women were singing and waving in traditional clothes from the back of a pickup truck, and several men were playing on drums every time a goal was scored. A few screens had been set up around the area, and hundreds of construction workers were drinking and waving their flags excitedly at the ongoing game. Jinki climbed up into the scaffolding, instructing his two workers to fan out and start looking for the men they were meant to capture that evening. He stared down at the crowd, keeping back into the shadows so he wouldn't be seen and trying to figure out where the boss was. Finally he spotted a man in a gaudy white suit and a Yankees cap, sitting in a lawn chair with a beer in one hand and a flag in the other. The man appeared to be talking to some men and women gathered around him...he looked important enough to be the boss, but he couldn't be sure. "Chansung-ah," he called into the radio he'd brought so they could communicate while separated, "do you see the big guy in the white suit, to your right? I can't be sure from my position, but he looks like our guy...can you confirm?"
Jinki wasn't sure what he expected from his fool of a worker; maybe he expected a simple "I'unno" in return, or something equally unhelpful. What he did not expect, which of course was exactly what happened, was for the idiot to march right over to the man in question, bend a little to get a good look at him, and then turn to give him a thumbs up. "I think it's him...should I grab him?" were the words that came over the radio, and Jinki was this close to having an aneurysm as he ducked and tried to stay hidden from anyone who might be curious about his worker's behavior. "Are you crazy?!" he hissed into the radio. "Do you want to get yourself killed or something?? Get out of there, now!"
He stood again and started down the scaffolding, turning to try and see where Chansung had gone. When he couldn't see him anywhere, he began looking for his brother and finally spotted him among a group of the workers, drinking and waving his flag like he was just another fan. "You idiot! We're not here to party, damn it--go look for Chansung, I can't find him and I think he's in trouble!" he called out over the channel, hurrying down and trying to see if he could find the guy in the white suit again...the game was over; had they really missed their opportunity so easily?
It wasn't five minutes until he heard the radio beep and Chansung's voice to come over the receiver. "Um...boss, we're kinda screwed here." Jinki's eye twitched as he tried to locate the others by their clothing and finally spotted what he thought was them around the back of the yard. "I'll be right there, hang on," he said and broke into a jog, hurrying to make sure his employees weren't brutally murdered or something. That just wouldn't be good, not at all. When he did finally make it to the others' position, he sighed heavily at their stupidity. There were just three men there, including the boss; still, each looked relatively harmless compared to the chaos he was sure the dumb duo could unleash through no fault of their own. "You two are going to be the death of me..." he groaned as he walked toward them and gave each a slap on the back of the head.
That was when he heard a sound from behind him, something like wood hitting the palm of a hand; he turned slowly and found he was absolutely right...there were at least ten more workers standing behind them, each wielding something that looked at the least unpleasantly painful at at the most deadly. "Shit..." he muttered under his breath and quickly pulled his gun out of his pocket; of course he couldn't have a real one, since he was technically a civilian now, but there was nothing in the law about carrying a gas gun. He pointed it toward the crowd of men, staring them down and sighing heavily when they looked completely un-intimidated and instead began to rush toward them, makeshift weapons held high. "You two take the big guy, I'll deal with these," he said confidently and turned to ready himself for the fight to come. When he heard the sound of screams from behind him, though, he couldn't help but turn. The two men had banded together, all right...they were running off into the trees at the edge of the yard, leaving him behind to deal with their problem.
"You idiots! Come back here!" he called, but suddenly he couldn't have said anything if he wanted to because the wind was knocked out of him and it was just a tumbling pile of arms and legs, and he was caught in the middle. He flailed wildly, kicking and punching wherever he could and trying to land as many hits on the men as possible to make up for the serious beating he was taking. He finally managed to stand and back away a few paces, grabbing his gun and shooting a couple clouds of gas at the crowd of angered workers before being overtaken once more. He could feel that they were rolling down some kind of embankment, but he was a little too busy getting the shit kicked out of him to really care where they were going at that point. He threw a few more well-placed punches and kicked one man's jaw before he felt something like rope being wrapped around him from all angles; within moments he was completely immobile, kneeling there with a bunch of angrily jabbering men surrounding him. Just a second later, one of the men pulled out a knife and his eyes widened considerably. "No! Stop it! Get a--guh..." His shouts were interrupted as he was shoved painfully onto his side, the wind being knocked from his lungs for the second time that night as suddenly his captors were being flung in all directions as if by some unstoppable force.
That force was a slender young man in jeans, a leather jacket, and a ball cap, who had broken into the circle of men and started pushing and kicking them away from their "prey". The workers, having spotted a new target for their rage, rushed at the man and were immediately made into human-sized rag dolls, their bodies flying through the air as they were thrown and kicked back from the more experienced and graceful fighter. God, was he ever graceful. Jinki watched through half-lidded eyes as the man seemed to dance around his enemies, the tall and lithe form bending this way and that to avoid blows and bending right back to deliver them with no mercy and no holding back. He was like a force of destruction, but a destruction so controlled and flawless that it was probably the most beautiful display Jinki had ever seen. He was like a god, tearing the world to pieces meticulously and remaking it into something strange and wonderful.
"Enough!" the low tenor cried out to the workers in their own native tongue. "Get out of here before I call the police, all of you," he said from behind what Jinki thought appeared to be a white surgical mask--was he a worker in the yard, too? The men stood and glared at them, groaning at their various wounds and looking like they hadn't yet decided whether the man's threat was real or not. Finally the boss walked up, barking at all of them to get out of there and not cause any more trouble. He turned to the man who'd saved Jinki first and spoke. "I'm letting you go because we won the game tonight..." he said with a huff, then fixed Jinki with a glare. "You...I will kill you if we meet again." He spat on the ground beside Jinki and turned to walk away, his men dispersing along with him into the night.
Jinki was still laying helplessly on his side, watching all this unfold, but suddenly he was pulled up to a sitting position and felt the bonds that had held him being cut. He rubbed his wrists, hissing at the pain he felt before looking at the man who saved him, who'd knelt to help him up. "Are you alright..?" the man asked softly, his Korean sounding much more natural than the gibberish he'd been speaking before.
"Yeah...thanks for that," he said as he tried to get the rest of the rope off of him. He glanced up again quickly at the other's face and was taken aback by what he saw there now that no mask hid his features.
He knew that face.
Lee Taemin.
He had to think fast, so as he had already done a double take he made up a reason for such odd behavior. "Ah! You're Korean..." he said as if in shock. "How can you speak Vietnamese so well?"
The slightly taller youth shrugged slightly. "Most of our workers here are Vietnamese, so I picked it up out of convenience." Jinki just nodded, figuring as long as he played dumb he could get out of this situation and go regroup or formulate some plan...he'd need to get Taemin as close as possible so he could find the right time and the right way to turn him over to the NIS. Then maybe he'd get his job back...everything would be normal again, at last...
"Say, what's your name?" he asked curiously, staring up into the killer's face now with no trace of familiarity on his features.
"Why?" was the response, and Jinki couldn't help but wither a bit at the insolence he was receiving from the young man. Seriously, he was at least four years this guy's senior. Then again, he was a Northerner...disrespect was something they did very well.
"Well, I would like to thank the person who saved me," he said, and even as he said it he could feel that he sounded like some ex-damsel in distress, trying to thank her handsome knight in shining armor. The man was handsome, that much was true, but that didn't make his behavior any more sensible. Oh well...he was accustomed to being the "odd" one.
"No need to thank me. Just go home and treat your wounds," the young man said softly, and Jinki couldn't help but feel a little tightening in his chest. This bastard was pretending to be a caring, normal person when in reality he was nothing more than a cold-blooded killer. Stupid son of a bitch, being all weird and kind and stuff. Just then, a worker appeared near the edge of the scaffolding and motioned for the man. "Yoojin-ssi!" he called, and the man stood silently and began to walk away, leaving Jinki with no more than a fake first name to go on. He had to do something...he had to have a reason for contacting Taemin--or Yoojin, apparently--again.
"Hey!" he called, and was relieved to see the other stop, if a bit hesitantly. "Um, I know this is weird to ask you like this, but...how would you like to come and work for me?" he asked with a friendly smile. Damn, he was such a good actor.
"I'm fine where I am, thanks."
Jinki had to work very hard so his eye wouldn't twitch and give away his irritation. "What was your name again...Yoojin-ssi? Like I said, I know it's weird and stuff, but with your fighting skills and your agility, you're practically a natural in this line of work I'm in." He stepped forward and pulled out a business card, handing it to the man and smiling. "It's a legitimate field, and comes highly recommended; besides, it will get you out of this nasty construction business. What do you say?"
The other sighed visibly, looking at him and shaking his head slightly. "I like my current work," was all he said before turning around and walking away, tucking the card into his jeans' back pocket.
"Well, um, think about it and...yeah, goodbye," Jinki said awkwardly and sighed, turning to walk back toward his jeep so he could finally go home. When he saw his two current employees come out of the trees and walk toward him, he glared. "Key. Now," he said and caught the key from Chansung. "Go home...stop wasting your lives, both of you," he said and walked off toward the vehicle amidst cries of "Hey, boss!" and "Oh man, he's really leaving us??".
A figure stood just behind a curtain of heavy plastic that was hanging from the scaffolding, watching the NIS agent walk back to his vehicle and leave his two worthless workers in the dust. He slid the knife he'd been holding in his palm back into the inner pocket of his jacket, somehow grateful that he hadn't needed to use it. He pulled out the business card and glanced at it.
"Lee Jinki...we meet again," he said as he turned and walked back into the shadows.
A/N: Because LJ wouldn't let me post an author's note last night, because it's being stupid.....this is edited in.
So, Taemin's last line is a little cliché. But oh well; I like him like that. XD Also, does anyone have a clue as to why the rich text editor is giving me a 404 error from within the editor? O__O It's crazy!
And finally: this is where I start to really change up some things, but I'm not going to go through the exhaustive list of "things altered from the movie to be more fanfic-appropriate or useful for the plot". Just watch the movie, you'll see.