In-Spired

CW: Violence (guns/wrestling), Sexually suggestive themes, Religious setting

Being nearly skewered was a rough start for my day.

But it was the only way I was going to get into Osirus without being detected, and a particularly dangerous blizzard was grasping its icy fingernails at my heels. I could still smell the acrid diesel in the air from the low flying frigate that I had jumped from just moments before. The wind made calculations awfully hard to figure out, but the tip of the spire was aimed squarely at the center of my chest. It was only by sheer dumb miracle in which the wind changed direction at the last moment and had me grip onto the frozen spire. It was just enough to slide down, jump to the roof and slide down that to the buttresses and to the ground.

I dropped into a particularly soft patch of snow with a quiet “poof”.

I laid there for a moment in my snowy grave to catch my breath and barely stopped my soul from exiting my body. I thanked whatever luck I had to dodge being a frozen shish-kabob on the roof. Can't imagine that being too inspiring, but since I'm not supposed to set foot on this ground under pain or death.

But, being a spy, well...affordances must be made to capture this specific MacGuffin. Thankfully, even places like this still held sanctuary, but I wasn't planning on sticking around long enough to call for it. Get in, grab the piece, get out and go before the storm or my rival could catch me.

I looked up as divine judgment was cast down from the steeple, as though knowing what I was up to. The place had been derelict for some time, but that did not cut the potency. I shivered. From the cold, I promise you. I approached the doors, popping the collar of my coat up against the wind, and brushing dark hair from my goggled eyes. The temperature was dropping almost as quickly as frozen fingers did the picks I pulled from the interior pocket of my heavy, dark wool coat. The lock wasn't hard, but the frozen conditions were. There was a forecast of a blizzard. Anyone with half a brain was in a place where it was warm and safe.

Perfect cover.

Despite the frigid tumblers, they moved easily. Unlatching the lock, I slid in and locked it behind me just as wind howled and rattled the doors now at my back as though knowing what I was up to.

There wasn't enough time, but I stepped in and I heard the click of a cocked revolver hammer. Cold steel pressed against the side of my face.

“Thought you might be dropping in...” A smooth, cool, familiar feminine voice cooed. “...and stealing what is rightfully mine.”

“Maeve.” I breathed. It wasn’t the first time we’d crossed paths, and each time I hoped it wouldn't be the last. We were opposites in most ways, including the factions we held allegiance to.

She pressed the barrel against the bone of my cheek, and in the tight quarters of the atrium, I didn't have the space to move. “Don't get so informal with me, Cade Cross. I won't be as forgiving this time.”

I dared to smirk as my eyes turned towards her, though kept deathly still. “At least you know my name, sweetheart.”

She spat words unfitting for a lady, ending her tirade with, “Get out before I blow your brains out.”

“Do you promise?” My grin and tone wicked.

“You're insufferable.” There was a note of amused disgust in her voice.

“Then why didn't you shoot me when I walked in? Why all the romance?” I waggled my eyebrows, though I took stock of the surroundings.

She hit the weapon against my cheek, breaking my concentration, “Scram!”

“Good to know you have yet to actually pull the trigger on someone.” I challenged as my smirk darkened.

Her eyes narrowed. “I don't need to murder as many as you do.”

The snark shot straight through my heart, making the earlier near impaling look like a paper cut. Wind clamored against the doors, the storm demanding presence in this reunion. “We don't have time for this, Maeve. That storm will kill us if we linger.”

“Then why don't you walk your pretty boy ass outta here and let me take care of this?” She clicked the hammer back in its rightful place, but she shifted in front of me, keeping the gun in my face and stepping up the staircase with her back to the sanctuary. “Got here faster than you did. It's mine.”

Her arms were in front of her, comfortable but strong. Thick black coat blended in with the darkness of the sanctuary, though the tie at her waist showed off her delicious feminine frame. Only enough scant light came from an outside streetlamp that gleamed on the silver of the barrel of the revolver and her stunning eyes matched. Her hair was dyed black this time, her crimson lips the only color popping in the scant light.

It's too bad that she was on the wrong side of the war. Talented and brutal, I wouldn't mind seeing her outside of a context in which we were trying to outwit, outplay and outlive one another. The fact I wasn't a bloody smear by now made me hope the feeling of mutually assured destruction was mutual.

“Go on. Get out of here, pretty boy.” That smooth as silk voice slithered a thrill through me.

“You keep saying that, and I might take it to heart.”

A shot zinged by my ear and lodged itself into the old wooden door as I felt a warm trickle down the side of the lobe. “Missed me.”

She smirked. “You wish.” She was right. The shot was aimed to zing past me. Her marksmanship was one I wouldn't dare be on the other end of if she didn't have a no kill philosophy that drove her.

“More than you know, sweetheart.” I purred back before lifting an eyebrow. “You want me to freeze out there? Come on, Maeve. We're wasting time if we don't wanna spend the next few days trapped together-”

Another shot was her reply, and I shifted out of the way, but in the space of a blink she disappeared in the darkness. I ran after her, taking the steps two at a time, and slid into the sanctuary. Dim glow from outside lit parts of the remaining stained glass, casting colors and shadows around the room. Unease welled within me, though I didn't give into it.

A creak caught my ear and I headed towards it only to run right into a pew. I cursed and another shot rang out after me.

“Ah, ah, ah!” I chided, “We're in a church, Maeve! Show some respect!”

Her giggle chilled me as it echoed in the cavernous space.

I stumbled to the front as a dull ache radiated through my thigh.

A flicker of light caught my attention at the altar. Right there, in front of the cross was a nativity scene, just as I had been briefed on. Her hand reached for the baby in the manger and flicked the light out before blending once more with the shadows.

My ears traced her movement and I stepped in her path, tackling her to the ground. It took little effort to pin her beneath me as I had more muscle, but she was lithe and slippery enough that I didn't take any chances. Her knee had a tendency to find my groin more frequently than I'd prefer, and I locked my hips over hers, keeping my legs pressed to her sides. One hand found her wrist as the other one went for the figure she had stolen.

Her body relaxed under me, and my gut sank. She twisted her hips violently before I could set in place, knocking me off balance in the opposite direction I wanted to go. She used her momentum well, her free hand to knock me upside the head.

I saw stars. Not the kind that went with the rest of the collection of figures.

I tried to squeeze my knees together, but she was already slid out from under me and headed right back to the door.

Unlike Maeve, I didn't point a gun at someone unless I intended to kill them. She was quick, but my stride was longer. She went to the door and quickly unlocked it.

“DON'T-!”

The door burst open as though a torrent. Wind pushed her back against the staircase, pinning her there.

I grinned at the top of the stairs, heading for the stolen figure that had been tossed behind her from the winter blast. Her pained silver eyes threw a spear right through my chest for the second time. Ice was pelting her fair skin, turning it an agonizing red. I cursed and went to help her, figure forgotten as I battled against the daggers of ice pitched at us by the howling assault.

There was no going out if life was to be preserved. We were too late. I swore and shifted around the side to press against the door to latch it. My feet slipped against the slick tile floor, the mounting snow piling in a drift at the doorway. I took a step back before throwing my shoulder into the door at as much force as I could muster, and it closed the door partway.

It was enough to unpin Maeve. She took a look at me, then the blackness of the sanctuary. She opened her mouth, but the freight train of sound rushed past my ears, and I couldn't hear her. We couldn't stay here with the temperature dropping so sharply.

She turned, scooped up the figure and blended once again with the shadows.

I slunk around the edges and followed her, once again getting eaten by the darkness. The howling outside even covered her footsteps. She couldn't be far, but a slight grating noise caught my hearing over the din. My eyes snapped over to a corner in which a light was extinguished. I went over and found a hidden door in the stone in which I could not move. I cursed under my breath, hitting it in frustration. Now I was trapped here without my objective.

Or was I?

I looked back at the figures of the nativity on the altar. My feet drew me closer to them again. A lamb was set off to the side, and unlike where the baby was, it had traces in the dust. I picked it up and turned it over.

I grinned, whispering to myself under the roar outside. “Oh Maeve, Maeve, Maeve... always going for the obvious... when the answer is subtle.”

There it was, the small vial we were both after. I pulled it from its lodged place in the bottom before returning it. I had what I needed, and missed another chance at what I wanted. I looked up at the empty alcove behind the altar a moment in silence before the bite of the cold stung at my face.

Right.

I pulled my scarf up to cover most of my face and stepped back once, twice, then turned. Two steps to my right and my foot thudded against a trapdoor. Grinning, I stopped down on it until it gave way, jumping down into the pitch dark of the catacombs. Dusty decay filled the room as bones were littered around me.

“Apologies.” I muttered to no one set in particular before pussy footing around the remains until I hit the labyrinth of tunnels underneath. After several more twists, turns and hundreds of counted steps, I saw the literal light at the end.

“Got it?” A gruff man’s voice called out.

My body had to don its skin again after I had cleanly jumped from it.

I glared with a curse at the hunched over cloaked origin of my startlement. A grin missing about half its teeth smiled back.

“Let’s go, Cadick. Lead me outta here.”

“Oh aye.” He shook his head but retained his smile as my breathing returned to its normal cadence. “Best you be sure of foot now, otherwise you might get impaled.”

“I’ve certainly had enough of that today.” I grumbled.