Danger Signs (Underworld/LotS)
Title: Danger Signs Author/Artist: shiegra Fandom: Underworld/Legend of the Seeker Pairing/characters: Cara, Marcus Rating: PG13 Warnings: mentioned violence Prompt/challenge you're answering: Cara and Marcus are in a relationship that is never consummated.
“I work for one man,” Cara said, baring her teeth at the man behind the desk. “And one man only.”
She’d crashed through the door – unexpected, uninvited and almost definitely unwanted – only a second earlier. She was already itching to introduce Corvinus’s face to the desktop, hard; a brief fantasy of the way blood would look on his pale skin turned too quickly to thoughts that weren’t so chilly and pissed, and she pushed them away with the ease of long discipline and stalked across the carpet.
Marcus Corvinus was standing. She wasn’t surprised; he wasn’t a paper pusher, he was a mover. He’d been a mover, and he was still a mover, and being trapped behind a desk was a punishment and a declaration of mistrust. She’d bet good money both chafed, but he was good at hiding his emotions – hatred, impatience, anger, malice – behind a mask of smiling calm. Lots of practice.
He didn’t, however, look up from his file until she was right in front of him. “I’m aware of your…shift in loyalties, Cara.”
The distaste in his low, smooth voice would have been imperceptible to anyone who’d spent any less time working with him. Cara cocked a hip, raised one eyebrow, and met his gaze over the barrier of paper. Her lips curved into a cool, stinging smile. “Then change the assignment. I don’t do toadies. Unless, of course…” She leaned forward, smile predatory, blonde hair sliding over her shoulders. She still wasn’t quite used to the lack of weight. “…this is your way of telling me you don’t want him to come back.”
"If I didn't want him to come back," Marcus said, "I would do it myself."
Cara straightened, her smile vanishing. "Well, the other option," she said, venomously sweet, "is that you're just being an ass."
He snapped the file shut. "From someone so suddenly and fervently loyal, I'd expect more dedication to her job. Such quicksilver alliances can go away."
They'd worked together for years, and Cara knew him. Marcus's loyalties were absolute, and though they hadn't belonged to Rahl, they did belong to someone Rahl held in the palm of his hand. And she could tell, studying him now, her alliegances shifting had -- disappointed him, maybe. He placed high value on loyalty, and didn't respect those who did not. The austere line of his mouth was not promising.
And what could she say? He would have killed her. But upon her return, Triana had attempted to murder her. He wouldn't accept it. He's a good man. He was. But they were paltry words unless you knew him, and Marcus didn't. She spared my life. No. Cara was not touching the subject of Kahlan Amnell to anyone, not even her longtime partner. It's none of your fucking business? That could work.
Instead, what she found coming out of her mouth, painful and stilted, was, "I have my reasons."
Marcus lowered the file, studying her from under lowered eyelids. She didn't know what he saw or had seen in her face, but she knew she'd given something away -- and it pissed her off. "Your assignment doesn't change," he said only, and she was back on solid ground.
"Go to hell," she tossed over her shoulder with a brilliant smile as she strode for the door.
"The case does require him to remain alive for the duration," he reminded her, and she slammed the door for emphasis.
She sent him the toady's head in a bright box with a ribbon on it, and won the code in a duel to the death that left her covered in blood. It was her favorite kind of mission possible, but there was something missing, and just because Cara refused to even think his name didn't mean she could forget.