Second Place - Action/Adventure

Draco sauntered into The Lair with a haughty expression alighting his face. His eyes scanned the crowd. In the far corner he spotted Severus talking to a brown haired man Draco assumed was the squib. After knocking back a double vodka, Draco hit the floor and started dancing.

Severus Snape wondered if there was a special place in hell reserved for him and, if so, was this it? The "Lair" was a cheap bit of cheesy theatrics, watered down drinks, and bodies in desperate need of . . . something.

"Who's the blonde?" Beck Striker asked Severus as he crunched a piece of ice from his whiskey double.

Severus watched Draco dance. "I don't know. He's new. Only been in a couple of times. Not from the states. Doesn't seem to know anyone here."

Beck leered in Severus's direction. "I knew I hired you for a reason. Therac was right about you. It's been, what, three, four weeks? Already you fit in." Beck shifted slightly as he leaned in conspiratorially, the light catching the deathly glitter of Menhop's ring. "You're swift on the uptake�already checking out new potential friends for me. Better still, you certainly know how to be discreet. Very good, Severus. Very good indeed."

Severus shrugged, his impassive mask in place as he continued to scan the crowd. "Discretion is rather necessary being what I am. Besides, what do I care what you do with a few of your wayward patrons? They should be more careful as far as I'm concerned."

Severus had proven his loyalty, and the extent of his discretion, quite by accident. He'd been working the floor his second day and had wandered into the back to check something. What he found was a naked, disheveled Beck strangling a kid while fucking him at the same time. Severus nearly lost his balance when he'd first stumbled in. It was scary how much the kid looked like Harry. Severus felt the heavy, dark magic thrumming around them and almost lost his balance in the backwash. He stood emotionless as he watched the life drain from the young body Beck had affectionately called "Pitch." He'd invited the kid to the back earlier in the evening for drinks. Apparently, he'd been playing with him for a couple of weeks, drawing him into his imagined web.

Beck was the worst kind of loser. He was rich, not terribly bad looking, and thought he was clever. For instance, he seemed to have a thing for giving his "boys" pet names based on the color of their hair. Yes, Beck was terribly, terribly clever.

Once the kid was dead and Beck had come, Severus politely cleared his throat and told a dazed Beck that he should consider moving his drink dates to a more secure location. Beck had stared at him questioningly, not even noticing that the body he'd just fucked and murdered had already disappeared. Seeing an opportunity to curry favor, Severus had helped Beck to his feet, cleaned him up with a quick wand wave and sent him home for the night.

Beck barked in laughter, breaking Severus's reverie. "You know? You're right. They get what's coming to them and I get what I need. It's a win-win, really." Beck's eyes glittered with desire. "What's the deal with Chestnut?"

Severus resisted rolling his eyes. Chestnut, better known as Brian Metts, was Beck's newest obsession. "Still available. Shall I invite him for drinks?" Severus held his breath. If Harry and Draco weren't capable of capturing Striker's attention, then the Metts kid�Chestnut�would be next. Striker worked the same way with each kid�saw him, became captivated by him, obsessed about him, danced with him, invited him for drinks, fucked him, . . . killed him.

"No. Not yet," Striker said as he continued to watch Draco dance. "Keep an eye on Blondie," he said as he walked away.

Severus nodded impassively. When he was sure Beck was gone, he inclined his head slightly, signaling to Draco to meet him later. Draco, who had been surreptitiously observing the two the entire time, inclined his head the other way, indicating that he understood.

Several hours later, Draco apparated into Severus's new flat. It was a far cry from the Brownstone in New York. "Who's your decorator? Remind me never to call him," Draco quipped with a sneer.

"Careful," Severus drawled, "you're a lace doily and a bottle of hair gel away from becoming a stereotype."

Draco shrugged. "You mean I'm not one already?" he muttered as his eyes continued to scan the room.

Severus didn't respond. "You've been with Potter, I see"

Draco chuckled. "Yes I have. In a variety of ways, actually."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Yes, I gathered that."

"Really? And just how do you know?"

"A little snake told me," Severus said dryly.

"Huh. Was it a little black one, green eyes, wicked temper and a velvet tongue? Because, I thought I saw one matching that description writhing around a bit earlier."

"You really have been with Potter�you've turned dumb."

Draco snorted. "He does have the ability to make your mind turn to mush." Draco leered at Severus. "Though, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you? You two really should just get it over with. You know you want to. And, some of us are tired of suffering through your ridiculous protestations to the contrary."

Severus responded with nothing more than his patent stony expression before changing topics. "You caught his attention. Good work. Now, we just need to see if you can keep it. He's likely going to go after Brian Metts�a young man with light brown hair, blue eyes. You danced with him briefly tonight."

Draco nodded in recognition. "What about Potter?"

"He's a closer match, but Striker might want to branch out�both of you will need to be ready. Speaking of Potter, is he going to be ready for this?"

Draco licked his lips. "Oh yeah. Believe me, not a problem."

Severus nodded. "Good."

"What are we going to do about keeping tabs on each other? It's not like we can pretend to be old friends who suddenly all decide to check out the same shit hole. And, what about the ring? Any ideas?"

"I've been thinking about that. A communication amulet is an obvious choice. It will allow us to communicate telepathically while activated. As far as the ring, I don't know that there's anything else other than simply ripping it from his finger. Take the whole bloody finger, for all I care."

Draco nodded. He checked his watch. "I've got time for a short night's sleep before heading back to London."

Severus nodded as Draco left.

The next morning Draco Apparated directly into Harry's flat. They'd had sex less than twenty-four hours ago, after all. Familiarity still lingered in the air. When Draco arrived, though, Harry was gone and a piece of parchment with his name on it was waiting for him. Scanning it quickly, he tossed it aside when he finished. Apparently, Harry had decided to get ready for this assignment on his own. Shaking his head, Draco headed back to L.A.

A week later, Draco was dancing at the club when Harry waltzed in. Any apprehension he'd had about Harry being able to handle himself left the minute Draco saw him. Clad in dangerously low, skin-tight jeans and a gauzy, white, form-fitting, long-sleeved shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest, Harry turned quite a few heads as he sauntered to the bar and ordered a shot of something appropriately trendy. He'd done something to his hair, Draco noticed, as he watched Harry move to the beat with small, lazy pelvic thrusts. His hair looked like he'd just had the best shag of his life�sticking out this way and that�artfully arranged in a tousled mess. As the light hit it, Draco saw streaks of midnight blue running through it. Nice. Very nice.

Draco's appreciation for Harry's new look was cut short at the sight of the prince of Loserville advancing on Harry for a chat-up. He felt a perverse sense of pride as he watched Harry turn to the man and look him up and down through narrowed eyes before dismissing him by simply turning away and ordering another shot. �So,' Draco thought to himself, �he's going for the sullen, moody thing. That works.' It came as a surprise, then, when Harry worked the next guy who approached him by playing the coquettish rent-boy to the hilt. This guy was hot. This guy was anything but a loser. Harry knew who to play up to and who to ditch. Impressive. Draco wasn't the only one impressed either.

"He looks good. Seems to know what to do. Your doing, I suppose," Severus drawled through the amulet link as both he and Draco watched Harry and the hot guy dance.

Draco hesitated, and fingered the small coiled snake pendant dangling from a short silver chain. They had one for Harry to so that all three of them could communicate with each other. "Actually, no. I took him out only one night�this is all his doing."

"Interesting."

"Indeed."

"Does he know to meet for debriefing tonight?" Severus asked.

"Probably. We'll know in a few hours. Where's Striker?"

"Gone for the night. He has been distracted as of late. I fear that he's not interested in chasing anyone new right now. He's been eyeing Chestnut very closely. We may have to step up our efforts."

Draco nodded soberly and continued dancing while both he and Severus watched Harry.

Harry seemed lost to the music, the way his body twined and writhed, but he was taking in the club the whole time. He watched, observed, gathered. He'd spotted Draco almost right away. It had taken quite a bit of willpower not to smirk in his direction. He was sure Draco was surprised by his transformation. But, if the one night at the club with Draco had taught him anything, it was that he had a lot to learn and very little time in which to do so. Harry thanked Merlin for chronic insomnia, that he'd kept a few contacts from the illegal whorehouse assignment and that he could flit across the ocean in the blink of an eye with little concern.

As Harry danced with some repugnant guy who looked like someone Harry should be seen with, he spotted Severus on an upper catwalk, observing from the shadows. A small jolt of electricity shot through him. Outwardly, he simply tipped his head in his direction and smirked when Severus did the same.

The club itself was a joke. The Lair. Please. How pathetically unoriginal. He hated the d�cor (if black lights and waitresses wandering around like the undead could be considered d�cor). The place was constructed of nothing more than artificial lights, artificial backbeats and artificial blondes who thwamped and grinded to the unoriginal bass. The place was full of predictable sadsaps desperate to lose themselves and their clich�d existences for just a moment, for just a taste of something else. Someone else. It was filled with schlumpy losers trying to boost their status with the hopeful ignorants, fading players looking to juice their egos one more time, and club kids desperate to be noticed, to be wanted. God, Harry hated it here. And, he could tell that he was going to hate this assignment. With a deep sigh, he continued dancing, continued letting Mr. Repugnant paw at him while he smiled back coyly.

Several hours later, Harry Apparated to the front door of Severus's flat. Simmons had, as promised, left him a packet of the most recent updates and had thoughtfully included contact information. Looking over the building, he guessed that all three of them lived in a rather seedy portion of town, though Harry's flat was far nicer than anywhere else he'd been forced to live during an assignment. Harry snorted, as he tried to imagine Severus and Draco dealing with mass-produced carpet and leaky pipes. Before he could knock, the door flew open.

"Snape," Harry said. His stomach was flip-flopping all over the place and he felt a rush of heat on his face.

"Potter," Severus said in response as he looked Harry over carefully.

As always, something passed between them for a moment.

Draco rolled his eyes in mock disgust at their antics. "Potter," he drawled as Harry entered the small living room and sprawled on the floor.

"Miss me Malfoy?" Harry said cheekily.

Draco snorted. "Hardly. I've been rather busy the last week." Draco looked Harry up and down. "Seems you have too. I was afraid I was going to have to send you a detailed list with pictures. Who helped you, anyway?"

If Harry was insulted by Draco's mild insult, he didn't show it. Instead, he shrugged. "I do know people outside of the two of you, you know. And you seem to forget that I spent six months in a fucking whorehouse. I picked up a few things."

"So you're a professional then? Low class place, I assume. It would certainly explain your technique. Or lack thereof."

"Fuck you, Malfoy," Harry said lightly.

"Why must you always forget? I'm the one who does the fucking around here," Draco bantered conversationally.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, and before Harry could retort, abruptly stood. "Silence!" he yelled. "Now, let us return to the topic at hand."

"What? Potter's lack of technique? Or, who does the fucking around here?" Draco quipped.

Harry laughed as he flopped on his back, giving both Draco and Severus quite a view.

"Enough!" Severus roared.

Harry continued to chuckle as he sat up and moved to more appropriate seating. Draco pretended to huff indignantly at having to share the second-hand tweed couch with Harry.

"Now, if you can constrain yourself to adult conversation," Severus began, "we have much to discuss."

For the next several hours, the three of them hashed out theories, discussed all the facts known thus far and came up with a number of possible scenarios.

"Draco has already garnered Striker's attention, has danced with him, had drinks with him, but Striker seems unwilling to take the next step," Severus said as Harry slipped on the silver necklace with the lightening bolt charm. "He's been very distracted as of late and, for that reason, I fear he will stick with Mr. Metts. We must do all that we can to avoid this."

Draco and Harry nodded soberly.

"When will he be back?" Harry asked, as he eyed the lightening bolt with distaste. "Couldn't it have been something slightly less clich�d?" he muttered to himself absently.

Snape pursed his lips in frustration before answering. "He returns tomorrow night. Draco, I suggest you keep things very low key tomorrow�let's see how Striker reacts to Potter."

Draco nodded. "Fine with me. I do tire of being the center of attention all of the time."

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"We're agreed then," Severus said.

Everyone nodded. Draco and Harry stood and began making their way out. Draco left first, quickly Apparating back to his flat. Just as Harry prepared to leave, he felt Severus's heavy hand clamp gently on his shoulder. He looked at Severus questioningly.

"Potter," Severus began, before hesitating, "are you sure you're ready for this? If you aren't fully healed, we can do this with Draco."

Harry looked at Severus carefully before answering. "I'm fine," he said neutrally, "never better in fact. Look, if you're worried about me compromising the assignment�"

"This isn't about the assignment!" Severus hissed before quickly schooling his features.

Harry remained silent and expressionless, waiting to see what Severus would say. Inside, he felt the warmth of Severus's concern flutter through him, which made him feel ridiculously happy.

Severus sniffed. "I simply feel that I should know if a member of my team is in any distress. It impacts our plans."

Harry's mouth quirked up on one side. "Of course. The team. I'm fine. Really." Harry winked and said, "See you tomorrow," before turning and Apparating.



Artificial Life - Chapter 4

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