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Title: Brush Pass
Author: speedy
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I'm not the Rat, so obviously the characters aren't mine. I'm just borrowing them for awhile.
Notes: Written for the CFF April 2008 Cassadine Repast Challenge.
Stefan walked into the cheap, hole-in-the-wall greasy spoon, his eyes appraising the occupants, and took a seat at the counter, keeping the door in view. He ordered a meal, he really wasn't paying attention to what, and waited for his contact.
The waitress didn't give him a second look, with his long hair and battered Army coat. He looked no different than most of the truckers who patronized the place. At times like these, he longed for his custom made suits from Milan.
This was the best way to protect Nikolas, he reminded himself, as he had for years. Since before he'd "allowed" Helena to ruin him and Luke to kill him.
He didn't usually take assignments. He was an asset, keeping the family's rouge operations in check, not an agent, but there were debts owed. This one could come back to Nikolas if he failed. He refused to entertain the thought he might've actually liked the target. His handler. His...friend.
A dark haired woman entered and took a seat to his left, leaving an empty stool between them. He recognized her immediately. Despite the equally as unfortunate wardrobe choices, Anna Devane was a stunning woman.
He waited for her acknowledgment, as instructed.
"What looks good today?" she asked him, barely looking at the menu.
"The pancakes," he answered automatically.
His meal – eggs apparently – was set in front of him. He watched the waitress disappear into the back. He pulled a small card from his sleeve and slid it across the empty counter space.
Anna put the card into her PDA and reviewed the information. "It's really him?" she asked calmly.
Too calmly, Stefan noticed. Very personal. "Verified it myself. Your friend visits every few months to ensure the programming's still in place."
"No specifics?"
"No. They're using him as a sleeper."
"Against whom?"
The question was so quiet, he took the chance to glance at her. She was staring at the PDA screen, lost in thought. It was a rhetorical question obviously, but he answered it anyway. "Something or someone in Port Charles, I suspect. I'll keep working on it."
Anna slid another card in his direction. "Pictures of Spencer from Robin's computer."
He would've thanked her, but she quickly left him alone at the counter with his half cooked eggs. He pocketed the card, keeping it close to his heart.
Author: speedy
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I'm not the Rat, so obviously the characters aren't mine. I'm just borrowing them for awhile.
Notes: Written for the CFF April 2008 Cassadine Repast Challenge.
Stefan walked into the cheap, hole-in-the-wall greasy spoon, his eyes appraising the occupants, and took a seat at the counter, keeping the door in view. He ordered a meal, he really wasn't paying attention to what, and waited for his contact.
The waitress didn't give him a second look, with his long hair and battered Army coat. He looked no different than most of the truckers who patronized the place. At times like these, he longed for his custom made suits from Milan.
This was the best way to protect Nikolas, he reminded himself, as he had for years. Since before he'd "allowed" Helena to ruin him and Luke to kill him.
He didn't usually take assignments. He was an asset, keeping the family's rouge operations in check, not an agent, but there were debts owed. This one could come back to Nikolas if he failed. He refused to entertain the thought he might've actually liked the target. His handler. His...friend.
A dark haired woman entered and took a seat to his left, leaving an empty stool between them. He recognized her immediately. Despite the equally as unfortunate wardrobe choices, Anna Devane was a stunning woman.
He waited for her acknowledgment, as instructed.
"What looks good today?" she asked him, barely looking at the menu.
"The pancakes," he answered automatically.
His meal – eggs apparently – was set in front of him. He watched the waitress disappear into the back. He pulled a small card from his sleeve and slid it across the empty counter space.
Anna put the card into her PDA and reviewed the information. "It's really him?" she asked calmly.
Too calmly, Stefan noticed. Very personal. "Verified it myself. Your friend visits every few months to ensure the programming's still in place."
"No specifics?"
"No. They're using him as a sleeper."
"Against whom?"
The question was so quiet, he took the chance to glance at her. She was staring at the PDA screen, lost in thought. It was a rhetorical question obviously, but he answered it anyway. "Something or someone in Port Charles, I suspect. I'll keep working on it."
Anna slid another card in his direction. "Pictures of Spencer from Robin's computer."
He would've thanked her, but she quickly left him alone at the counter with his half cooked eggs. He pocketed the card, keeping it close to his heart.
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