#zarard

At first, she brushed it off. She sometimes had to obfuscate some details for her own work, either because of the people involved in a story or the politics behind it. Then she’d worried she was someone’s sidepiece – but the fact he almost always answered his phone made that less likely. She’d looked into it anyway – his name wasn’t on any wedding registries and the name on his medical forms was for a cousin she’d already met. His car, bank account and lease were all under his name alone.

Soat least he wasn’t married, though it didn’t rule out girlfriend or common law spouse.

But lately she was beginning to think it was something else entirely.

Firstly there were the injuries. He said it was bruises from his kickboxing class – but bruises didn’t require bandages. Those were for scrapes – don’t you know I’m clumsy, Glitter? Except he had the balance of a damned cat and she knew it.

Then there were the oddities. Like when he answered the phone and she swore she heard Revairin in the background. He claimed he was in restaurant – but she spoke Revairin goddamnit and she knew the word for pork did not sound anything like the word for interrogate.

And then again, two weeks ago when he’d shone up soaking wet at 1AM. He’d claimed his car broke down a few streets over and he realized he was nearby, was all. Except after he’d towelled off – and she’d darted two doors down the hall to beg a shirt and pants fromher neighbour Zarad – he’d held her like he was drowning, hands shaking every time he let go too much.

So now here she was, seated on Zarad’s couch staring down at the plain manilla folder he’d just handed her.

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” she asked, dread warring withncuriosity.

Zarad, for once, was not smiling or otherwise acting in a devil may care attitude. He hadn’t flirted with her once since she stepped in the door – which was a little like waking upto a yellow sky. Unnerving and wrong.

“Wellbhe’s not cheating on you – or via you,” he said.

“He’sba mobster, isn’t he?” she asked, “or in a gang. Oh God does hework for you mother?”

“Now now, you know very well my father’s wife is not my mother,” Zarad said, “and no. At least not habitually.”

And what did that mean? Without another word she flipped the file open –and there was Hamin. In a mugshot.

“Is this from Vail Island?” she asked after a moment. Zarad snorted.

“Someday, you and I are going to talk about why you recognize Vail Island mugshot letterboards on sight,” he said. “But yeah. Taken three years ago.”

Shenodded, and turned back to her folder – and then froze.

“My boyfriend’s a pirate?”

“Was,”Zarad said. “Now he’s a spy.”

“My boyfriend’s a pirate spy,” she said, looking up in pure disbelief. She turned some more pages – vague mission reports, an arrest records slightly longer than the one Hamin had admitted to alread and – oh those wily bastards. “Did you have any idea?”

Zaradput on his most innocent face. “Why would I?” he asked. “Did you?”

“You know I had an idea something was up,” she said. He nodded.

“To be fair, mobsters and spies aren’t that divorced from one another,”he said. “Good guess.” And then he added, “you should dump him. I’m single.”

“And totally not also a spy,” she said. He just blinked again, that woefully unconvincing look still on his face. “Thank you for the folder. I owe you – but as stated will not repay in sexual favours or body parts.”

“I would never take advantage,” he said. “And not even a kidney?”

“No,” she said. She did all the same cross the floor to kiss his cheek. Quieter, she said, “and really thank you Zarad.” He didn’t squeeze her arm, just brushed his hand across hers.

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “Literally. To anyone. And burn that or something when you’re done.”

“As you say,” she said and without another word left his apartment. The walk to her own apartment wasn’t long – they lived on the samefloor and there were only six units per level anyway. But it was long enough to come to terms with this reality.

Her boyfriend was a spy. Which left her with only a handful of options.Break up and try to forget about him; pretend she didn’t know…

As the door closed behind her she picked up her phone, hitting number three on speed dial.

“Glitter!”Hamin’s voice cut in after only a single ring, “I was just thinking of you.”

“Oh? Good,” she said, “I have a request to make.”

“Foryou, anything,” he said easily.

“Terrific.vPlease stop making plans with me when you’re going to be out of the country,” she said, taking a third option.

“Er,”Hamin said.

“We’ll discuss more when you’re home of course,” she said. “And hello Jasper, I know you’re listening.”

“Ms. Handliar,” Jasper said. Unlike Hamin, who’s voice had the usual cellphone quality Jasper sounded like he could have been right next to her. “I suppose you’ve spoken to your neighbour, then?”

“Michi?”she asked, playing dumb. “Is she a spy too? Oh she’s good I never would have guessed-” she gasped as if offended. “Are you only dating on me to spy on an enemy, Hamin?” she demanded.

“Glitter– Pippa no,” Haminsaid. “Look-”

“You’rebright,” she said, knowing that if let him start she would probably get talked into circles. “This is not a phone conversation. Are you both available in two days time for tea at say…3PM?”

A pause and Jasper answered. “Yes.”

“Terrific. And Hamin, my darling dearest? Do not be late.”

A/N: for the record, Jasper’s not Hamin’s handler (I figure that’s Cordelia or maybe Lyon lmao). He’s more like…the Pippa/Hamin relationship supervisor. Off screen he’s friends with Pippa who spotted him snooping and befriended him XD

And Zarad is not a spy he is a MYSTERY/maybe an information broker and/or a possibly bored person who just Knows People