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Section 1 (Instalment 1)
Word count: 2 033



"I still think that it's overkill."

Max grinned a bit at the one of two identical faces before him - the one that he actually could recognize as the original order of the features, from something in the eyes, at the way he was looking at things, at people... Stewart was a lot of great things but he'd not reached anywhere their boss's level of awareness of the world around; it seemed, for another time, extremely odd to see those dark eyes without the constant drive in them.

"Stop fretting, boss." He went on checking once again, making sure that the illusion bracelet would hold. That it was as good as it needed to be. "How many times have you known me to miss a chance to err on the safe side? This is too good an opportunity to waste." A warm, significant look over, which got him a tiny snort in return.

"Of course. But you're going for three security people each, a sniper of ours, and a ruse? Is there something about this I don't know?"

Max looked sharply at his friend at that. "Of course not. You should know by now that I don't do that." Stephen's hand rose up placatingly. Good, it hadn't been a serious question, so Max relaxed slightly and returned to his task. "You know all that my research and inquiries and even your lady wife's. The contents of that package and the likes of it change hands way too often, and those who'd try to take it from the likes of your client don't tend to be any too nice about it."

Stewart knew the security measures. That was his job; if bad came to worse, he'd have to fall back on those security measures. The details that pertained to the actual business interaction? It was a common policy that the less everybody in the company knew, the safer they were. There were calls that even Max himself didn't know. It had been his own rule, too. If somehow somebody broke into his mind - attempted so far only in field conditions and never successful, granted - enough would be compromised. He couldn't afford to completely ruin his employer. (Friend. Lover. Half of the meaning of his life. It was too easy to think of that when he could feel his eyes on him; but he didn't look back, keeping his attention on the task at hand. Focus. It had grown... both easier and harder to maintain it around him, over the years. Easier with the practice. Harder with all that was between them. Which the third person in the room most definitely didn't need to be made aware of.) Stu would get the information tomorrow on the ride there. He was well-conditioned enough, and had been keeping his reading up even after earning his stole. He'd be alright, Max decided. He could hold his own. Two full wizards, and a total of three non-magical trained security people, all of whom had had brush-ups with magic already. Tried and tempered by fire... Not to mention the Father's security. Supposedly, he knew what they might end up against.

"And you've got a hunch." Not so much as question as a statement. Max shrugged in reply to it.

"I know those end up fifty-fifty at best. But I will not take the risk." His eyes looked up to meet the dark ones - the real pair - for a moment before he finally straightened up. "And neither will you." Or else they'd not be at this level of enacting the plan already.

Stephen was spared the need to come up with a response to that by the entrance of his wife.

Solace LaMarck, as known to many, and de la Marck, in fact, was among the women who did not bother to hide the silver in their hair as they started to age. She was thirteen years her husband's senior, and even he had some frost in those always perfect, always unruly curls; both of them were only made more striking by the contrast with the dark hair. And yes, Max could admit she was striking. Still not exactly his type, but an amazing woman. Of course, Stephen deserves nothing less. The years had not toned down the reptilian elegance of her motions, nor bent the proud bearing, nor clouded the sharp features, nor dulled the eyes. A small smile curled up Max's lips. The two of them made one hell of a team. And could impress more than a few by just appearing, side by side, even if they were being casual. When they dressed up to kill... Well. Even among the circles where they moved (and where even he, as security, had to dress in a tux, and that part was still slightly odd, even after more than a century of such occasions), they were stunning.

It definitely added to his professional pride. And satisfaction.

Solace's eyes flickered between the two identical figures, then she moved to her husband's side, unerringly and without even looking down for the telltale bracelet. That got Stewart to frown. "Am I that easy to identify? That doesn't seem good, does it?"

"Calm down, Rodds. There are very few people at all who know him as well as her." Or me. "You're doing fine." A beat, then the inevitable addition, emphasized as just that by the twist of his mouth. "He won't be there for comparison either, so no need to panic." Not much of a joke, but he didn't think things were so tense as to warrant an effort to make much of one. "It'll just go smoothly, as it has before."

"Right."

Stephen's arm had curled around Solace and he'd drawn her in for a slow kiss, the kind that made most people nervous around them at times. Maybe that's why Stu had broken through his accustomed silence. Max's lips twitched. The younger wizard had been really chatty to start with. Then his mouth had gotten him into trouble with a few of the other employees, and he'd started keeping it mostly shut even before he or, thankfully, Stephen had had to step in. He's a good kid. Some in his department did that after a while, go quieter. Others followed his example, bantering and cracking up half-proper jokes all the time. Either way was fine so long as they kept it harmless, and kept themself efficient. Which was something Max had learned to make sure of before they got to the point where they were either-efficient-or-very-dead. Not just because it meant he had people who could be relied on at his back. He simply didn't like losing people. A distaste his boss shared, wholeheartedly.

The kiss seemed finally to draw to a close (not that he didn't like those long lingering kisses himself - which is possibly they made him less nervous or impatient too) and Stephen murmured, "is she asleep?" Stella. Their youngest daughter was in her seventies. Already looking older than her mother. The undoubtable sadness in paradise, for the LaMarcks. No less loved for being Autistic, though. Despite appearances of cold... these two share love and spill it in abundance...

"She's asleep, and well. We'll be fine. Make sure you are, too."

"Of course. I'm not going to be where I'm expected, after all. I'll be safe."

"Be so. I will miss you."

"Me too."

She disentangled herself from his arms, then nodded to Stewart - she'd get him settled for the night. Before leaving for the evening, she turned and shared another long look with her husband. Who ended up mouthing, silently, the words that never meant any less coming from him - for being rarely voiced. 'I love you.' Solace smiled slightly, warmer expression now that no relative strangers were looking at her face, and murmured audibly enough, "I know." And then she was out.

Max started to follow, but was aware within two strides that Stephen hadn't stirred to go with him. Which, since he was supposed to give him a ride to Stewart's apartment, made him stop and turn back to look questioningly. And find the usually composed (or impassioned, or amused) face frowning in worry.

"I still don't like it."

"Come on. This has worked before."

"Yeah, but... if your hunch is right, then you all will be in trouble that's supposed to come to me."

"That's our job."

"You will be in trouble."

"That's my job, Stephen." The tone was gentler than the words, however, and Max stepped back to his friend. "That's why I'll have all the backup. It's too late to change the plan now too." They'd been through this time and again before, through the decades. "Not in a way that'll make it go any safer. Any replacement of mine would know less than enough and if things go down wrong, I'd be just sending them to death instead of me."

"If things go down wrong, that's what you're asking of me to do. With you." The voice... the admission, even after all this time, made Max draw him in for an embrace and a kiss. Not requesting one such as Solace had gotten. Just giving. And it was received, judging by how the slim, strong arms wrapped about him in return.

After it, he said quietly, "things won't go wrong. It'll be okay. It always is."

"You'll make sure of it."

"I'll make sure of it." Max more felt than saw the small nod, the warm lithe body pressed against his as Stephen was. He held on to the embrace a few moments more, just enjoying the sensation of the pressure, of the breathing, the scent of him. Then let go, the usual cocky smile dancing on his lips. "Let's go."

Another nod. Then Stewart's coat and hat getting put on, carefully as concealing as they could be - it was unlikely that they'd be already observed, not until tomorrow, but it was better to err on the safe side, really. Quiet walk to Max's car, Stephen loading himself up into the passenger's seat with his usual grace don't get distracted... and off they were.

The drive wasn't a long one. At this time of evening, there wasn't much if traffic either. They were almost there when Max spoke again. "You two plan on coming to Dia's party tomorrow night?"

"I thought it was a family party."

"And you aren't? Family?" That implication got Stephen a sideways half-amused glare that got a half-smile in return.

"We'll think about it. Is that what you can't not think about right now? Dia's party?"

"Sure." He was pulling into the parking lot now. "I plan to be there myself and all, so... of course I am."

The white teeth flashed in a very quick smile under the building's motion detecting lights. "You'd better. I'll hold you to that one."

Stephen's hand was already opening the door when Max's covered the other one with his fingers - half-caress, half-squeeze. "As you wish."

A little bit of the tension in the unfamiliar-clothed familiar shoulders drained with that. The going out of the car was arrested for a moment, just enough for the hand to turn into his and squezze back, Stephen's voice carrying a faint tone of amusement, genuine at last. "Wiseass."

"Always. See you tomorrow."

"Yes. Please." And his friend was out of the car. Max didn't drive off until he was inside the entrance, and then the light was on in Stewart's apartment. One just couldn't be too careful. Or at least, Max couldn't.

In another moment, he started the car again and pulled off. The drive home was a little longer; he made it in silence. He could have tried the radio, but he doubted it would work tonight. It was a blessing that the car was running alright. That was his thought as he pulled up before their own place. To his surprise, Sammy's car was parked there. He'd been looking forward to quiet evening with Dia right now (that hunch hadn't been a joke...) but his daughter's presence was always welcome.

Even if she'll probably see that I'll be risking again, tomorrow.

Even so.

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