missthis_ass | (no subject)

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nate,
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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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The hammering at the door wakes Nate up with a start, but at first it doesn't register that it's his own door. He doesn't know anyone who would be that cruel, so he rolls over, hides his head under his pillow and tries to ignore it. It only gets louder, and then with startling clarity he remembers that Chloe is here. That much is real, it wasn't some weird dream. First Sam, now Chloe.

He's been trying to give her space, let her settle, and he has an inkling that she thinks this is his fault anyway, so it had been safer to steer a little clear. Nate knows what being on the receiving end of Chloe's ire is like.

By the sound of it, she's reached breaking point. Nate throws the covers off and swings himself out of bed. He's only wearing a pair of loose pyjama pants but anyone waking him up at this ridiculous hour deserves what they get, so Nate runs a hand through his hair and opens the door, blinking.

"Do you own a watch?" he asks her, leaning against the door frame and raising an eyebrow.

No beauty sleep necessary, she'd been right about that.

"Several, in fact, but do you know where most of them are, Nate? Most of them are in India, which is where I'm supposed to be and since I'm not in India, but my watches still are, I've decided time no longer matters." Never mind the fact that she's actually wearing a watch right now, the band wide and visible on her right wrist where she has her hand propped up against her hip. Time doesn't matter when it comes to this. It's a make believe city she's somehow been kidnapped into without a way to leave. If dealing with that means waking Nate up at the crack of dawn, so be it.

"Aren't you going to invite a girl in?" she asks before walking straight past him and into his flat. It looks exactly the same as hers, the same sort of layout, the same sort of furniture, and she's willing to bet every other flat in every other building people are assigned to looks more or less the same. If she's stuck in Darrow, the first thing she needs to do is get out of that place.

Nate blinks at her again, trying to process the fact that she's here, and it's apparently morning if only barely, and she's already talking his ear off. Nate used to own a watch too, but his is back in Yemen, along with his wife and his best friend, so she's not the only one with problems. Telling her that will probably get him a fist in the face or worse, so Nate just steps aside when she pushes into the apartment and sighs.

"By all means, come in," he says dryly, watching her pace around his tiny living area. It's the same as any of the flats in this place, and Nate hasn't bothered with decorating. He uses this place to sleep and that's about the extent of it. No point in decorating when he's still kind of hoping he'll get to go home, even if after a year in this place the hope is beginning to die.

He can see all of it ticking over in her head, the same things that went through his own, only a year later. If there was something he could say that would make her feel better he'd say it, but he knows there's not. "You know this isn't actually my fault, right?"

"You say that and I know you believe it, but I watched you destroy Shangri-La," Chloe answers, turning to face Nate again, wondering if he'd come to the door without a shirt on purpose, thinking it might distract her. He's not entirely wrong on that count and she allows herself a moment to appreciate the view, regardless of what it might make Nate think. Chloe isn't ashamed of her attraction to him. It would be difficult not to be, she thinks. Even Elena fell for him at the end of it, no matter how annoying she might have found him at first.

She sighs a second later and scrubs her hand over her face, pushing back some of her hair.

"Alright, I know it isn't likely your fault either, but you can't blame me for considering it. Remember what we've been through," she points out. "You've been responsible for stranger things than this."

Okay, maybe he had destroyed Shangri-La but that had been special circumstances. It's not at all the same as transporting someone to a magical city and never letting them leave. "That was one time," he argues, pointing his finger at her. "And in a toss up between letting a homicidal warlord hopped up on magic tree sap steroids run loose and accidentally destroying Shambhala, I think I did okay!"

He'd gotten the three of them out alive, and that's the main thing. He almost hadn't, but if Nate thinks about how close he came to losing Elena that day his chest gets tight, so he pushes it away. Chloe does have a point; he's gotten them into stranger and worse scrapes than this, but usually he also finds a way out of them. Darrow is different.

"Trust me, this one wasn't me. I don't wanna be stuck here any more than you do."

"Oh, only one time, my mistake. I shouldn't be blaming you, I should be blaming the man who's destroyed multiple legendary cities," Chloe says, throwing her hands up in the air. "Oh, wait..."

There probably isn't a single other person in the entire known universe who might fit that description and Chloe looks at Nate pointedly, practically daring him to argue with her.

"If there's one man in this world who loves my ass more than you do, Nate, it's Sully. I heard all about your escapades in Ubar," she continues and now she's smirking a little, because at least this conversation is familiar territory. Things always go a certain way when it comes to Nate and she appreciates their bickering as much as anything else. It's comforting in a way.

He might even feel bad about that except for the fact that he knows she's saying it to get a rise out of him. Maybe he has destroyed multiple legendary cities but it's not like he wanted to.

Instead, he ignores her and goes to get a shirt, pulling it over his head. When he comes back she's still standing in the middle of his living room, so at least he can rule out this being some sort of crazy fever dream.

"What's there to tell?" he asks, and if his tone is a little bitter he doesn't think he can be blamed. So close to the biggest score of his life and then this city snatches him right out of the goddamn desert. "Didn't even make it to Ubar."

"Here's a tip, Cowboy," Chloe says when Nate returns, disappointingly dressed. "When I'm irrationally irritated with you, you've a much better chance of getting out of it generally unscathed if you leave your top off. It serves as a distraction."

And maybe he's married to Elena now, maybe there's far too much history for them to ever go down that road again, but it doesn't mean she can't appreciate what's presented to her. It's not a joke either, so long as she's distracted, she's not likely to get as angry as she might have otherwise. Not that any of this is truly Nate's fault and she's aware of that, but he's the only familiar thing about this place and therefore the only real comfort she has.

Not that she'd ever use those words aloud.

"Look, I know it's not your fault, all this..." She trails off and gestures around them with both hands. "But you're the only person here I know."

Nate crooks a smile at her, running a hand through his hair. It's been a long time since he and Chloe shared anything beyond a mutual flirtation. He'd been half asleep when he answered the door and maybe it hadn't registered like it might normally have, but he should have known she'd be checking him out. She never was subtle.

"Don't objectify me." She won't swallow that for a second, and Nate doesn't particularly mind. Absently, he runs his finger over the spot where his wedding ring should be. Nate's been in Darrow for a year and he hasn't strayed once, but with Chloe here it's all too easy to remember how she feels, how she smells, how well she used to fit in his arms. He shakes his head, flopping onto the couch with a sigh.

"Hey, when I got here I didn't know anyone," he points out. "You should count yourself lucky, especially because you get the joy of my company."

"But it's just so easy with that ass," she answers with a smirk when he tells her not to objectify him. Their entire relationship is easy, which is why she's here instead of holed up in that pathetic flat that's been supplied to her. Nate makes things simple, even when he's making things terribly complicated at the same time. He's a pain in her ass and she knows he always will be, but he's one of the best thieves in the business and that's what has her coming back for more.

Now they're here. Retired? She has no idea how to refer to their situation when it's been forced upon them.

With a sigh, she sinks down onto the couch beside Nate and looks over at him. "Well, you're a better conversationalist than the last guy I worked with, so I guess you're not wrong," she allows, one corner of her mouth still turned up slightly. "What the hell do we do now? A little tough to be a thief when you can't flee the scene of the crime, isn't it?"

Nate laughs a little, shaking his head. "I'm not taking my pants off," he warns her. Not without some damn good coaxing, in any case. It's almost too easy having her here, like he hasn't spent the last year in this place alone. He has friends here and he's enjoyed their company, but nothing is quite like this, the easy way he can relax around Chloe. Maybe it's to do with the fact that she knows exactly who he is without pretence, maybe it's because he's seen her naked.

"I've never known you to appreciate me for my conversation skills," he points out, raising an eyebrow. Chloe has told him to shut up more times than Nate can count, but he thinks he can say that for just about anyone.

She sits on the couch and Nate leans back, throwing his legs onto her lap just to annoy her. If she's going to wake him up at dawn just to complain he's going to take advantage of it. "I've got a little something in the works," he promises her, though it's hardly what they're used to. There's no legendary cities to discover in Darrow, no hidden artefacts, no pirate treasure. Common theft doesn't interest him all that much unless he's in need of quick cash, so there's none of that, either. But if his plans come to any kind of fruition it will give him something to pass the day with a little bit of his old life in the mix.

"Not yet," Chloe answers with a smirk, plucking idly at the material of his pyjama pants when he throws his legs over her lap. In the regular world, she has too much respect for Elena -- and for herself -- to do anything that might end with her and Nate in bed together again. For all his annoying qualities, of which there are many, Nate's a good man and he loves Elena, and Chloe, for all she doesn't understand settling down like that, respects what they have together. She'd never actively work to screw that up.

But it's different here. Elena isn't here. Maybe they're still married, but Chloe figures there's not much harm in flirting with him where Elena can't see and will never know.

"You're right, I've always preferred when you use your mouth for other things," she agrees, her grin growing as she drapes her arms over Nate's legs and then leans back against the couch. "And what, pray tell, does Nate Drake have in the works in a city he can never leave? Don't tell me you've found Atlantis under the ocean here."

He raises an eyebrow at her but he doesn't argue. Sam has been trying to tell him to go out and get laid from the minute he arrived in this city, but Sam doesn't understand why he can't. There's no ring on his finger but the memory of it is as vivid as ever, and it's not the guilt that stops him, it's that no one measures up. There's no one in this city he can stack up against Elena and so he doesn't want to sleep with anybody else.

With Chloe it's different. There's history there from a long time ago, before Elena was even in the picture. He's been here for a year and doesn't look to be going home any time soon, and he thinks Elena might even understand that, if she knew. No one else will ever stack up but Chloe doesn't need to.

He hasn't seen Chloe since she told him to go and tell Elena how he feels, but if the flirting is anything to go by she's clearly not all that fussed about which way that went afterwards. It's almost comforting, to know that Chloe hasn't changed a bit, even if Nate has.

"Not yet," he admits, though that would be an exciting one to add to Drake's journal. "Just a little black market artefacts trade, if I can get it off the ground." Maybe there are no mythical cities in Darrow but there are magic artefacts and Nate means to get his hands on them, then maybe make a little something on the side by fencing them.

"And you need a driver, right?" she asks. "The best in the business?"

Surely there's little to no competition for that title in Darrow, but at least it's one she knows she holds onto back in their world as well. There might be those who would argue with it, but they're usually idiots, and anyone who's worked with Chloe will say the same thing. Great ass, best driver in the business.

Hell, she's a pretty decent thief, too, although if there's not much in the way of work in Darrow, she'll leave that bit to Nate and just do his driving for him. There's no question that he's going to hire her, she knows he will.

"Careful how you answer that," she threatens, slipping her hand under the hem of his pant leg, her fingers finding some of the hair on his leg just above his ankle. "You know how much this will hurt if I pull."

It's not nearly so well planned as she seems to believe, but he smiles at her. Not enough thought has gone into it yet about what or who he'll need, but obviously if he does have need for a driver, Chloe will be top of the list. He knows exactly how good she is and he knows that she's well aware of it too. Nate's always preferred to keep his team pretty small, keep his circle tight and trustworthy.

There's a reason he's hired Chloe before, why he lets her in when he's pushed away so many others. In the beginning he hadn't trusted her as far as he could throw her, and she'd toed a line between him and Flynn that made him doubt her more than once. But they've been through a lot since then, and he trusts her. That's worth more than her driving ability, but he's not about to tell her that.

"You know you are," he tells her, even as she creeps a hand towards his ankle. He doesn't need to lie to avoid her wrath; it's the truth and they both know it. "I don't know who I need yet, but you're on speed dial, obviously."

"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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