missthis_ass | (no subject)

Entry tags:

nate,
practice

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Exactly three days into her time in Darrow and she can't find a bloody way out of here.

Chloe wouldn't say it's pissing her off, she's kept her cool, she's done what everyone expects of her and has gone to get the damn package waiting for her at the train station. She's gone to the flat provided, though she only spent one night there, most of it pacing between the bedroom and the kitchen, her gun in one hand as she waited for someone to bust down the door and try to throw a bag over her head. The other two nights have been spent in the hallway outside of Nate's flat, not that she'd ever admit to it, but she'd felt just the slightest bit safer there.

Not that Nathan Drake makes her feel safe in any way. It's just the comfort of a familiar presence, even if he is behind a locked door and without the slightest idea she's there at all.

Today, though, she thinks she's on the verge of giving up. There's no way out of here. Everything everyone has told her is true and she's stuck in this damn city along with everyone else. Along with Nate. She wants to be able to blame him, because nine times out of ten, if something has gone wrong and Nathan Drake is involved, it's his fault, but can't find any explanation for it that connects him.

He's probably destroyed some ancient city and therefore cursed them all to a life in this place, but she can't prove it.

So she's hammering at his door and it's too early in the morning, he's probably still in bed, but she doesn't care, so long as he's there alone. It's not as if the man needs his beauty sleep and if he's sleeping with someone who isn't Elena, Chloe is going to kick his ass twice as hard. Not that she'd say no to another go with him, but that's different. She knows at the end of it all Elena is the one he loves, but it isn't so bad to occasionally be the one he wants.

Anyone else, though, and he's getting her boot right up his arse.

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"Good boy," she praises, patting his leg gently instead of tugging at his hair. He may not have committed to anything and he may be keeping his options open by claiming he doesn't know who he'll need just yet, but it's the best answer. She hadn't expected him to guarantee her a job and she'll have to branch out on her own, but she's never had a problem doing that before.

Nate might be her first choice, but he can't be the only one who needs someone like her in a city like this.

"On a scale of one to ten, how happy are you to see me?" she asks, tilting her head against the back of the couch to look over at him. It's a question meant to put him on the spot and she makes no mention of how glad she is to see him.

He half expects her to hurt him anyway, but she pats his leg and he raises an eyebrow at her. "I'm not a dog," he tells her, but he doesn't pull his legs back. At least she doesn't ask any more questions about a job. He's working on things and the quicker he gets them off the ground, the less bored he'll be in this city, but at this stage it's still something of a pipe dream.

He snorts a little at the next question, shaking his head. "Like a four, maybe." It's a understatement by far, but he's not going to give her the satisfaction of the truth. He's happy to see her because he missed her, but also because she's something of a grounding presence. He's been a little lost since he arrived here, particularly with Sam's arrival, but now with Chloe here maybe he can start to make some sense of things again.

He'd given the same answer to Elena once, when she asked how scared he was of losing her. He knows that Chloe knows exactly how happy he is, just like Elena had known too, but it's easier to joke and tease them then it is to admit how useless he is at being on his own.

"You say four, Cowboy, and I know you mean eight," Chloe answers with a smug smile, although she's genuinely pleased by the answer, even though he's said only a four. They both know he means more than that and they both know she's glad he's here, too. It isn't as though she wouldn't be able to get by without him, she's been more or less on her own for a very long time, but it's a little easier to have him hanging around.

"So what else is there to do in this place?" she asks and she doesn't take her hand off his leg, the tip of one finger stroking gently against the outside of his ankle just because she can. Because she knows it feels nice. Because it's a comfort for her, too, his skin under her fingers.

"Where do I go to get drunk and get into fights?" She grins again, up toward the ceiling this time. "A girl can only go so long without handing some idiot his ass."

He smiles at that. No one has called him Cowboy in a long time. Somehow it seems reserved for Chloe and Elena, and he almost misses the nickname. He knows it's said in jest, knows it's more of a tease than anything, but he likes it anyway because it reminds him of how things used to be. He does mean eight, probably even more, but he knows that she probably feels the same way.

She strokes along his ankle and Nate lets her, doesn't pull away. He should definitely pull away, because even if there's no ring on his finger he is married, and this is probably one of those things that toes the line. She's not making a move, exactly, but it's too comfortable, too easy, and it feels too nice for him to tell her to stop. "Not much," he says honestly, shrugging. "Sometimes the city goes a little haywire and things get interesting, but for the most part it's like this."

He's sure Chloe will find a way to entertain herself because she always does, but he knows it'll be an adjustment. He laughs softly when she asks where to get into a fight, rolling his eyes at her. "There's plenty of bars. And they do this fight club thing sometimes? But I'm not allowed to talk about it." He hasn't actually been to Fight Club before, even if he's heard about it. Nate's a fair brawler but he knows the type of people who frequent those things and he knows he'd get his ass handed to him pretty quickly.

"What, like that ridiculous movie?" she asks, perking up a little, not because she actively wants to participate in something like that, but because it sounds utterly absurd. The thought of people going to some hidden location to punch each other silly all while being told not to spread the word is maybe the best thing she's heard all day. Chloe prefers to take out her frustrations on the sort who actually deserve it rather than those who are just showing up and asking for a black eye, but that doesn't mean she can't watch.

There's bound to be a good looking fighter or two willing to strip down for the show, after all, and Chloe can't find a thing wrong with that.

"Have you ever gone?" she asks and she's still stroking his ankle even though she knows she should probably stop. Nate doesn't love her and Chloe doesn't mind, because she doesn't love him either, not like that, but he's married. Estranged or not, it's not her place to touch him like this, and yet she can't bring herself to stop either. He's familiar and he's comforting and she wishes she didn't need that, but this place is not where she wants to be.

"Like the ridiculous movie, only with guys who are like seven foot tall and with superpowers." He doesn't think that's how the movie goes, exactly. He hasn't, in all honesty, actually seen it. He's sure she'll enjoy it either way, if it means she gets to hand someone's ass to them.

Nate settles into the couch a little more, putting his arms behind his head and leaning back. He hasn't treated this apartment much like home since he got here, and there's probably something to be said about how quickly he feels relaxed now that Chloe is here, but he's hardly going to voice it. He doesn't know when along the line he started to properly trust her - really trust her - but he knows it's something that's supposed to be unspoken. They don't talk about what they mean to each other because it's easier not to, because neither of them are very good at talking about their feelings.

"I haven't," he admits, shaking his head. "For one, I like my limbs and I prefer to keep them attached to me at all times. For two, I'm practically retired." That's not entirely true, though Darrow definitely provides him less opportunity than home did. He's not retired in the sense that Sam knows him as, where he's working a desk job and playing house with Elena, but the longer he stays here the more he feels himself settling, going soft.

"Bullshit," Chloe snorts out with a laugh, cutting her gaze toward Nate. "Practically retired, my ass."

He looks good like that, stretched out on the couch, his arms behind his head, and on another day, Chloe would have slid out from under his legs and crawled up the length of his body and made him remember exactly why he's not even close to practically retired. Even now, trying to be a better person, she feels the urge to do it anyway, because she remembers what it's like to have his hands on her skin, how much he enjoys touching her. Married or not, he has to be going a little stir crazy without some release after all this time and Chloe would be happy to give that to him.

But she stays where she is. Maybe she squeezes her thighs together a little, a reminder of what she can't do, but she doesn't move. Not today. She'll see how guilty she feels about the thought tomorrow and go from there.

"You love treasure hunting, you'll find a way to make it work," she tells him. Insists, really. This is not how their careers end, she isn't going to allow it.

"The thing about treasure hunting," he points out, eyeing her with a raised eyebrow, "is that there needs to be treasure."

Darrow has plenty of weirdness and secrets, but Nate is yet to find anything that's up his kind of alley. There's magic here for sure, but no mythical cities or artefacts, nothing like what he's used to. He could, he supposes, stoop to stealing from jewellery stores like some common thief, but that's never been who he is. The thrill of the puzzle has always been half the fun for Nate, following a trail and piecing together clues that no one has pieced together in hundreds or thousands of years. That's his bread and butter, and that's why half the time - okay, more than half the time - he walked away with no actual pay-off.

"Face it, I'm washed up," he says, sighing dramatically mostly because he knows it will annoy her. He bends his knee and nudges her leg with his foot, a teasing smile on his face. "Boring as all hell. You showing up is the most exciting thing that's happened in weeks." He pauses, amends. "Don't let that go to your head."

"Oh, I'm never going to let you forget that," she answers, which he had to have expected, but the comment lacks some of her usual force. Right now she's thinking, caught in the idea of there not being any treasure here for them to hunt and that might be alright for her, because it's the driving she loves more than the treasure, but it's not alright for Nate.

He might be lying there on the couch, relaxed as can be, but she knows better. Retired isn't in his vocabulary. Even if he stopped hunting treasure, he still needs the adventure.

"Get up," she tells him, reaching up to gently slap his thigh. "Get dressed. We're going out."

He doesn't expect that she will, but he doesn't mind her knowing that, either. Part of why he likes Chloe is how exciting she is, how much he enjoys being with her because it always means some kind of adventure. There's a reason he's let her betray him so many times and it's because in all honesty, it's a little fun.

She slaps his thigh and he makes a show of wincing before he sits up, withdrawing his legs so that she can stand. "Where are we going?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "It's ass o'clock in the morning, there won't be any coffee."

He doesn't know when he became the kind of guy who knows when the coffee shops open and fits that into his morning routine, but he supposes it's somewhere around the time he arrived in Darrow. The minute he thinks it, he agrees with her. It doesn't matter where exactly she's planning on taking him; whatever it is will be more interesting than anything he had planned.

Leaving her in the living room for the moment, he goes to trade his pyjama pants in for jeans and pulls a pair of shoes on. He pulls a sweater on over his t-shirt, runs a hand through his hair and turns back to look at her. "Will this do or am I going to need my little black dress for this surprise date?"

"Nathan, please, don't tease me like that," she says with a smirk, giving him a swat on his hip when he comes back out into the living room. "You'd look lovely in the right sort of frock."

As to where they're going, she actually hasn't the slightest idea. He's right when he says it's early, but it's a big city she has yet to explore and she has to imagine there's something that can be done here at this time of the morning. It's better than just sitting here, because sitting here leads to idle thought and what Chloe does when she gets bored is not something she's allowed to do with Nate. Not unless it involves guns and that thought brightens her up a little.

"Is there a shooting range here?" she asks. "Not that I'll take you before coffee, wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself against me when you haven't had caffeine."

"Stop beating me," he retorts as she swats at him again, swerving out of her reach. He should have known she'd take a comment like that and run with it, but he makes a face at her anyway. "I don't have the legs for it." He doesn't know if she's just trying to get a rise out of him or whether she actually has been picturing him in a dress. He almost doesn't want to know.

He's following her towards the door when she asks about the shooting range and Nate laughs. "Oh, you wish you were as good a shot as me," he answers, shaking his head. Nate's had a hell of a lot of practice and he knows he's good, knows he's proved it with the fact that he's still alive. "You're good behind a wheel, I'll give you that, but let's leave the shooting to the pros."

He gives her a nudge with his shoulder as they leave his apartment. The lure of coffee is good enough to get him willingly out the door at this hour, though he has every intention of making her buy.

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