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goforth-ladymidnight · 2 months

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A Second Chance, Ch. 10

@praetorqueenreyna @thrumbolt @taymartiart @northern-star-polaris @zivotzaruzi (Does anyone else want to be tagged or untagged?)

Pairing: Tamlin x Lucien

Wordcount: 4.6k

Summary: Tamlin and Lucien reluctantly part ways to go to work, where they each learn something that could change the nature of their relationship

Read on AO3, or read on below:

At 8:58 the next morning, Tamlin turned his back on the elevator so that he wouldn’t have to watch the numbers climbing, signaling the moment the doors would open and he would have to ride it down to the lobby, alone. Lucien’s car was in the parking garage on the other side of the building, but he had insisted on taking Tamlin to the guest elevator anyway. If Tamlin had known how their night together was going to go, he never would have accepted Jurian’s offer to pick him up. It was too late to change their plans now, but he wished he could, just the same.

As if sensing his somber mood, Lucien reached out and adjusted the knot of the white scarf around Tamlin’s neck. “So, what time do you get off work?”

Tamlin blew out his cheeks and thought about how much to say. “It depends on the day. We still have some leftover work from the weekend to catch up on, so we should be through by six. Why?”

“Mmm… I was thinking: Takeout.”

Tamlin blinked. “Takeout?”

“Mm-hmm.” Lucien walked his fingers up the length of the scarf. “Ordering out. Staying in. Watching a movie.” He pulled on the scarf to bring Tamlin’s mouth to his level. “Other indoor activities,” he murmured, then kissed him.

Tamlin breathed in his freshly applied cologne, tasted the subtle cinnamon flavor of his lip balm, and felt the soft wool fibers of Lucien’s coat beneath his fingers. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was dreaming, even though he was wide awake. “That sounds amazing,” he said with a sigh, then repeated the Scythian phrase Lucien had taught him. “You’re amazing.”

To his surprise, Lucien began to blush, and dropped his gaze as if to hide his grin, an impossible task.

“What? Did I say it wrong?”

“No.” Lucien reached up and smoothed out the lapels of Tamlin’s jacket, still smiling. “I was just thinking… your accent has gotten better. That’s all.”

“Well, I had a good teacher,” Tamlin said with a shy grin of his own.

Lucien’s eyebrows flicked up. “You certainly taught me a thing or two,” he teased, then pulled Tamlin down for another kiss.

The elevator bell dinged, and the doors opened behind them.

Tamlin pulled away reluctantly and sighed again. “I guess this is it,” he said mournfully.

“Oh, no,” Lucien declared, and stunned him by pulling him into the elevator by his scarf. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“But your car is on the other side of—”

Lucien’s mouth against his silenced his argument, and by the time the elevator doors slid shut, he was done trying.

Luckily, no one else called for an elevator before it reached the lobby. Not that Tamlin would have noticed, anyway.

Lucien’s head fell back against the gleaming wall of the elevator, breathing hard. “They really should invent a day that falls between Sunday and Monday,” he remarked, face flushed. “I could use another day of this.”

Tamlin was breathing just as hard as he gripped the railing for balance. “Yeah. Me, too.”

Just then, someone from the lobby stepped through the open doors of the elevator, and startled when he noticed them scrambling to stand up straight. “Oh! Are you boys getting off?”

“No!” Tamlin said quickly as Lucien said: “Yes”, then let out a shy laugh when he noticed Lucien smirking.

Lucien patted Tamlin’s chest. “Sadly, he is, but I’m not,” he said, then chastely returned his hands to his pockets. “Right, Tam?”

Tamlin reached for the elevator door as it began to slide closed. “Right,” he said shyly, then stepped through the opening. “Um, see you later, Lu.”

Lucien smiled like a pleased cat as he leaned back against the railing. “See you.”

Tamlin’s thoughts began to clear only when he reached the glass doors of the lobby. He could see Jurian’s vehicle idling under the awning, and beyond that, a fresh sprinkling of snow sparkled in the sunlight. He took in a deep, cleansing breath. Traffic was going to be hell, but on a day like this, absolutely nothing could spoil his mood.

As he pushed open the first set of doors, a distant voice called behind him: “Hey, Tam!” He turned to see Lucien trotting after him. “Tam, wait!”

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Tamlin asked worriedly, letting the door fall closed as Lucien caught his breath.

“You forgot something.”

“I did?”

Tamlin half-expected Lucien to reach for him and give him another goodbye kiss, and was surprised when Lucien reached inside his pocket instead, but his curiosity quickly overrode his disappointment.

“I meant to tell you before: I get off at five, so, just in case you get here before me…” Lucien reached for Tamlin’s hand and pressed something small and flat and metallic into it. “Here.”

Tamlin opened his palm and stared at what lay there in disbelief. “What’s this?” he asked, as though it wasn’t completely obvious.

“The extra key to my apartment,” Lucien said shyly. “If you want it.”

Tamlin let out an amazed chuckle and held it up. “You’re giving me a key, just like that?”

Lucien shrugged. “Yeah. I mean… I would have put a bow on it, but I didn’t think about it in time.”

Tamlin turned the small brass key over in his fingers, tracing the shape of the grooves in the blade, speechless.

“If it’s too much too soon, you don’t have to take it—”

“No, no. I’ll take it,” Tamlin said, which made Lucien smirk. “I just… I can’t believe you’re already, we’re already, um, you know, living togeth—well, I mean, not living together, but…”

Lucien chuckled. “We were roommates once,” he pointed out gently. “Think of this as just… picking up where we left off.”

Tamlin blushed as he dropped his gaze and nodded. “Yeah. Okay,” he said softly, then tucked the key in his pocket and sighed. “Would it be a cliché if I said I miss you already?” he asked with a shy smile.

Lucien’s answering smile was kind. “It’s not a cliché if it’s true,” he replied, then reached for him. “Come here.”

This was a much gentler goodbye kiss than the one in the elevator, but no less effective in the hunger that it caused.

Lucien must have felt it, too, for he did not release his hold on Tamlin when they parted. “I suppose it’s too late to call in sick,” he said huskily. His breath was warm against Tamlin’s mouth.

Tamlin tore his gaze away to look out the glass doors of the lobby where Jurian’s SUV was still waiting. “Unfortunately,” he said reluctantly, fingering Lucien’s fine wool collar. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Lucien’s countenance brightened at once. “Well, if you start feeling at all queasy, call me,” he said, straightening Tamlin’s scarf. “I’ll come and get you, tuck you into bed, and make you feel all better.”

Tamlin felt himself turn bright red as he let out an embarrassed chuckle. “You know, I am feeling kind of feverish,” he flirted shyly.

“Ooh, I hope it’s contagious,” Lucien teased, then kissed him again, briefly. “Go on, then,” he said, releasing him at last. “Before I become delirious and take you back upstairs with me.”

Tamlin couldn’t contain his foolish smile as he reached for the door. “See you later,” he said.

“See you,” Lucien replied, then took a step forward as if to follow. “Say, maybe I’ll pick up some chicken soup and dumplings for dinner tonight,” he remarked, putting his hands in his pockets. “Then afterwards we can play Doctor.”

Tamlin nearly fell through the door as it unexpectedly swung open behind him. He looked around, face burning, but no one else was around to notice. “Geez. Now you’re making me delirious.”

Lucien grinned an unabashed grin. “I knew it was contagious,” he teased, then jerked his chin at the door. “Go on. You have my number if you need me.”

Tamlin shook his head and chuckled, then released the door to wave. “See you, Doc.”

The warmth of Lucien’s pleased grin followed him out the door and into the SUV.

“Well, well. Good morning,” Jurian remarked as Tamlin slid into the passenger seat. “Where are your antlers, Prancer?”

Tamlin breathed a shy laugh as he buckled up. “Don’t you mean Rudolph?”

“Oh, no, not with that walk,” Jurian said, grinning as he shifted the SUV into gear. “You were prancing.”

“What? I was not!”

“Oh, yes, you were.” Jurian grinned as he drove through the parking lot. “You got laid.”

Tamlin’s face turned to flame. “Shut up.”

Jurian chuckled. “You know Dasher, and Dancer, Prancer, and Vixen,” he teased in a warbly sing-song voice. “But do you recall…”

“Jurian—”

“The most famous reindeer of alllll…”

Tamlin couldn’t help his embarrassed smile and hid it in his hands, even though the windows were tinted well, and there was no one else around to hear Jurian’s terrible singing.

Jurian chortled and reached over to pat him on the arm. “Relax, kid. I’m happy for you.”

Tamlin looked up at that. “You are?”

“Sure,” Jurian said distractedly, glancing over his shoulder as he pulled out of the parking lot and into traffic. “It’s about time you got lucky.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, but it wasn’t luck; it was a goddamn miracle. Tamlin watched Jurian carefully as he asked, “What about you?”

“What about me?” Jurian said, staring straight ahead.

“Did you get lucky?”

“Hmm… You seem awfully interested in your boss’s love life,” Jurian said evenly, then shot him a look. Don’t push it.

Tamlin barked an incredulous laugh. “You just sang the first verse of a Christmas song because of the way I walked, and now you’re pulling the employee card on me? What gives?”

“What gives is the less you know about it, the better,” Jurian said coolly, smoothly changing lanes.

“About what? Screwing your mark?”

“Hey.” Jurian pointed at him. “You don’t talk about her that way. Ever.”

Tamlin’s face flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that…”

Jurian’s jaw tightened as he returned his attention to the road. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered.

They drove in silence for an entire block before Tamlin found the courage to ask, “Does this mean she’s not our mark anymore?”

“Like I said: The less you know, the better.”

Tamlin pursed his lips. “She’s my mark, too, so unless you plan on firing me, I think I’m entitled to know something.”

They came to an idling stop at an intersection. “You really want to know?” Jurian asked quietly without looking at him.

Tamlin’s heartbeat quickened. “Yeah. I really want to know.”

The light turned green, and Jurian smirked at him. “Too bad,” he said, then sped up with the rest of traffic.

Tamlin groaned and slumped in his seat. “You’re such an ass.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Jurian quipped, then flicked on the radio.

Ordinarily Tamlin would have sulked in silence for the rest of their commute, listening to the weather forecast and holly-jolly Christmas ads that coaxed everyone to buy-buy-buy in time for the holiday, but things were different now. He finally had someone else who cared about him, so he wasn’t afraid of being kicked out of the apartment if he pushed things too far. He reached over and switched off the radio.

“What the—” Jurian stared at him. “What the hell?”

“Watch the road,” Tamlin snapped. “You’re going to drive, and you’re going to listen.”

To Jurian’s credit, he did both, and carefully.

Tamlin took a deep breath. “If you want to sleep with Vassa, you’re right: That’s none of my business. But if you’re also going to turn around and turn in her whereabouts to some—some client, I need to know. Lucien and I are dating now. Even if we weren’t, I—I care about him. I’m already in too deep to be some kind of double agent.”

“So you did get laid.”

“Jurian.”

“Okay, okay. You made your point.” Jurian sighed loudly through his nose as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I wasn’t going to say anything until after we got to the office, but there is something you need to know.”

Tamlin’s heart skipped a beat. “About what?”

“About Vassa. I have to look into it first—you know, once I have access to her file—but I think…” Jurian blew out his cheeks, looking pensive.

“What?”

“I think she’s on the run from… from the Scythian mafia.”

* * *

Lucien was humming the tune to Silver Bells when he walked into Eris’s office later that morning.

“Knock, knock,” he called out cheerily, unbuttoning his coat.

Eris, who was on the phone, waved him in, distracted.

While he waited for his brother to finish his call, Lucien turned his attention to the elderly greyhound dozing on the couch in the corner of the office. More silver than grey anymore, the hound lifted its head when he approached, and its tail slowly thumped against the cushions when he reached out to rub it behind its silky ears.

“Hey, old man,” he said gently as it sighed and leaned into his touch.

“Hey, yourself,” Eris quipped, hanging up the phone. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so early, or at all, really.”

Lucien chuckled and gave the dog’s neck an extra pat before moving closer to shrug off his coat. “I thought I might as well come in and earn my keep.”

“Well, you picked one hell of a day to do it. Dad’s coming.”

“Ugh.” Lucien shrugged his coat back on. “Is it too late to go on a coffee run? I can be back in a couple hours—”

“We have coffee.” Eris pointed to the chair across from his desk. “Sit.”

Lucien grimaced and sat instead on the corner of the desk.

Eris sighed in a resigned way, and sat back in his ergonomic chair. “Well, before Zeus descends from Mount Olympus to strike fear in the hearts of we lowly mortals,” he began wryly, steepling his fingers, “I thought I should ask: Do you still want to proceed with your boyfriend’s case?”

“Of course I—” Lucien’s back straightened. “Wait. How did you know he was my boyfriend?”

Eris smirked. “Because I know you. You don’t know the meaning of: Take it slow.”

“So?” Lucien frowned and crossed his arms. “You could learn to take a hint. Mor’s going to break up with you if you don’t make up your mind soon and propose.”

“She already has.”

Lucien winced. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Eris said, sitting up with a tight smile. “She and her new girlfriend are very happy together.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, well.” Eris sighed. “I can’t say I’m surprised. Whenever I took her to the ballet, we were both looking at the ballerinas’ legs.”

Lucien was too surprised by this information to ask how Eris noticed. He thought that everyone was staring at the men in tights on stage.

Eris continued, “I just don’t want you to be surprised when I show up to the work Christmas party with a different date, that’s all.”

“You already have another date?” When Eris nodded, Lucien whistled. “I take it back. You’re no slouch after all.”

Eris let out a wry chuckle and leaned over to open a bottom drawer in his massive desk. “I don’t dare. Nesta is a dancer. If I slouch, I die.”

The old greyhound’s collar tags jingled as it moved off the couch and padded over to Eris, tail wagging, apparently hoping for a treat from that bottom drawer. Naturally, Eris had one.

As he watched Eris run his hand over the hound’s lanky frame as it chowed down on a bit of jerky, Lucien realized something. “Oh, I get it. Nesta is the owner of those legs you were looking at on stage,” he teased.

Eris gave his dog one more treat before sending it back to the couch with an affectionate pat on the flank. “Like I said, Mor and I were over a long time ago,” he said quietly. “We were both looking.”

Before Lucien could ask more about his brother’s new paramour, Eris produced a dusty-looking phonebook from the same drawer and thumped it on top of the desk.

Tapping his finger on the once-glossy cover, Eris said, “If you still want to proceed with your boyfriend’s case, I’m going to need some questions answered first.”

“And you think you’re going to find them in the city directory?”

“Not me. You.” He slid the phonebook closer. “Look under P for Private Investigators.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because I’m older and I say so.”

Lucien grimaced and took the phonebook in hand. “Don’t we have temps for this sort of thing?” he complained, riffling through the pages.

“I want to do this off the record until I know more about the situation,” Eris explained, dusting off his hands. “Besides, all hell is going to break loose when his High Lordship arrives, and I don’t want anyone distracted.”

Lucien’s finger traced over the surprisingly small number of listings of private investigators, and he sighed. “Do we have to do it this way?” he asked quietly.

“Do you have a better idea?”

He didn’t, but it seemed wrong, somehow. Distrustful. “You swear this will be off the record?”

“I’ll pay in cash. If this goes poorly, no one needs to know we were involved. And if it goes well… Well, they still don’t need to know,” Eris said with a dismissive shrug.

Lucien took a deep breath. “Fine,” he agreed, though reluctantly. “How about this one?” he suggested, pointing to a simple ad with an eye in the center of a ring. It was quiet. Clean. It helped him feel less… dirty for spying on his boyfriend.

“Fine by me. Read me the number,” Eris said, reaching for the phone on his desk.

As it began to ring, Eris put it on speaker, and Lucien panicked.

“What am I supposed to say?” he hissed.

“You’re not,” Eris hissed back. “But I’m not doing this by myself.”

Before Lucien could say anything else, the voice on the other end picked up.

“Thank you for calling J. P. I., where we put the Private in Private Eye. How may I help you?”

Eris leaned in. “Yeah, hi. I’d like to inquire about a comprehensive background check for someone.”

“Certainly, sir,” the man on the other end said, sounding as though he were rummaging for a pen. “Just a moment… Now, is this background check for a potential employee, or someone else? And remember, don’t be shy; we put the Private in Private Eye.”

Before Eris could reply, Lucien reached over and ended the call.

“What—Hey!” Eris frowned at him. “What did you do that for?”

Even though Lucien’s finger was still pressing down on the switch hook, his ears continued to ring. “That was him,” he said hoarsely.

“Who?”

Lucien swallowed hard. “Tamlin.”

* * *

“Are you still there? Sir?” Even though the line had already gone dead, Tamlin tried again. “Hello?”

“What’s the matter?” Jurian called out, searching through one of the many piles of paperwork that needed to be filed in one of the rickety metal filing cabinets lining the tiny office.

“I don’t know. I guess he just hung up,” Tamlin said with a frown, and returned the handset to its cradle. He carefully swiveled around in the creaky office chair but still nearly knocked over a stack of printer paper. “I told you that was a stupid slogan.”

“What’s the point of running your own business if you can’t have a little fun with it?” Jurian quipped, then shot to his feet with a triumphant cry. “Ah-ha! Found you, you sneaky bastard.”

“Who, Koschei?”

“Yep,” Jurian said, smacking the file folder with his free hand. “What do you say we do a little research on our good friend, here?”

Tamlin grimaced and fiddled with the pen in his hands. “I don’t know. If he’s really part of the Scythian mafia, maybe we shouldn’t—”

The phone on the desk began to ring again, a tinny sound in the small space.

As Tamlin reached for the receiver, Jurian remarked, “Need I remind you that we put the Private in Private Eye? We’re not going to get caught for—”

Tamlin shushed him and put the receiver to his ear. “Thank you for calling J. P. I., where we put the Private in Private Eye,” he recited dryly. Jurian gave him an exaggerated wink and a thumbs-up. He sighed and continued, “How may I help you?”

“You are the one who speaks Scythian, yes?”

Tamlin’s blood ran cold as he recognized the deep, heavily accented voice. “Um, only a little,” he admitted, but he didn’t feel like telling the man how amazing he was. “Jurian,” he hissed and pointed at the receiver. “I think it’s our friend.”

Jurian’s curious smile vanished, and he quickly took the phone as he traded places with Tamlin. “This is Jurian,” he said carefully, then nodded as he sat back in the office chair. “Da,” he said, then covered the mouthpiece as he looked up and whispered, “Get me the Scythian Study Guide.”

Tamlin wordlessly did as he said, retrieving the dictionary from its place on the nearby shelf among the other guidebooks they had—Caring for Your Camera, Birdwatching for Beginners, Visiting Vallahan, and Job Hunting for Dummies—but Jurian didn’t seem to need it.

As he conversed with this client, whether it was Koschei or one of his associates, Jurian spoke calmly and fluently, thumbing his way through the dictionary as if it were a magazine instead of a reference. Even his accent had improved. It seemed that Vassa was just as good a teacher as Lucien.

And speaking of Vassa, Tamlin straightened up when Jurian said her name. Even though he didn’t understand the language, he could tell that the conversation wasn’t going well. Jurian’s face hardened as the voice on the other end grew louder. Swearing, he guessed, and cutting Jurian off when he tried to explain... something, before inevitably getting hung up on.

Jurian jerked the receiver away from his ear. “And the same to you, asshole,” he muttered before carefully returning it to its cradle.

“What was that all about?” Tamlin asked as he watched Jurian run a hand through his unkempt hair.

“What do you think?”

“Vassa,” they said simultaneously, then they both sighed in unison.

Tamlin lowered himself carefully onto the corner of the desk so that it wouldn’t wobble, but it wobbled anyway. As he returned his pen to its jar, he asked, “So, what did you tell him?”

“I said that we had run into unexpected delays and needed more time to track her down.”

“And what did he say?”

“Oh, he called me a—you know what? I’m not sure it would translate all that well,” Jurian said with a wincing smile. “But don’t worry. I’ve heard worse.”

Tamlin blew out his cheeks and looked away. He’d certainly heard his fair share in his years working for Jurian. “So, what do we do now?”

Jurian tiredly scrubbed at his face and groaned. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to not smoke really, really hard.”

Tamlin winced. Even though he didn’t want to know more, he had to know. “And Koschei?”

“He can smoke in the pits of hell for all I care.”

“Does that mean we’re quitting?”

Jurian heaved a deep, resigned sigh. “It means that we have twenty-four hours to give him Vassa’s whereabouts, or we’re off the case.”

Tamlin perked up. “Hey, that’s a good thing though, right? We still have half the money. We can just quietly back out and…” He faltered when Jurian shook his head.

“It’s not that simple.”

“It’s not?”

“No, because now that Koschei knows that she’s here, what’s going to stop him from hiring another Private Investigator?” Jurian pointed out. “Someone who doesn’t care if Vassa gets hurt, or who helped her out by paying for her very pricey, very private hotel room.”

Tamlin’s blood ran cold. “You mean Lucien.”

Jurian nodded grimly.

Tamlin got up and rubbed the back of his neck as he turned around to stare out the grimy window. “There’s no way out of this, is there.”

“Not unless you know any other redheads in Prythian who just so happen to speak Scythian.”

Tamlin sighed, then whirled around with a sudden idea. “Lucien does.”

Jurian made a face. “Nice try, but in case you hadn’t noticed, Lucien is male.”

Tamlin ignored that little jab and braced his hands on the desk’s flat surface. “All Koschei wants is a photo of a redhead who matches Vassa’s description,” he said, getting excited. “I’m not saying Lucien could pass for Vassa, but I am saying that we could take a photo of any redhead in Prythian and say that we think it’s Vassa.”

Jurian’s head jerked back in surprise as he thought it over, then he shook his head. “And put an innocent girl in harm’s way? I don’t think so.”

“Koschei will know it’s not her. He’ll have no reason to go after her,” Tamlin insisted. “Maybe it will make him think he’s looking in the wrong direction. Who knows? Maybe he is.” When Jurian tapped his chin, looking thoughtful, Tamlin pushed himself away from the desk and added, “At least it will buy us some time.”

Jurian didn’t respond at first, but opened the file folder on the desk to peruse its contents. “Koschei did say he would pay us once he received the photos,” he mused.

“So, as long as we provide him with some photos in good faith…” Tamlin offered.

“Then there’s no reason to suspect we’re lying,” Jurian finished.

Tamlin spread his hands in an innocent shrug. “For all we know, your Vassa is just an innocent tourist,” he pointed out.

Jurian smiled sadly to himself. “My Vassa,” he said quietly, then nodded. “Okay.”

Tamlin grinned. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay,” Jurian said, pushing himself away from the desk. “Let’s pull a fast one on these goons.”

Tamlin’s courage faltered for a moment. “Wait. If they’re actually goons—I mean, if they’re with the mafia—what if they try to come after us?”

Jurian waved dismissively. “Koschei isn’t going to pay us for giving him the wrong photos. Besides, it’s not about the money anymore. It’s about keeping Vassa safe.”

Tamlin breathed a laugh and shook his head in wonder at how much Jurian had changed in a few short days. “You’re amazing,” he said proudly in Scythian.

Jurian’s chin jerked back, and he spread his hands in a confused way. “I, uh… Thank you,” he said, giving Tamlin a little bow. As he straightened, he smirked. “Did your boyfriend teach you that one?”

Tamlin felt himself begin to blush. “Yeah. Why?”

Jurian shrugged and slid the Scythian Study Guide closer. “You might want to save that little phrase for him, that’s all.”

When Tamlin took the book in hand to look it up, Jurian stopped him.

“Later. First, we need to figure out a plan. We only have twenty-four hours to make this work.”

Tamlin nodded, both excited and relieved at this turn of events. He was surprised that he didn’t feel more guilty, but this wasn’t like before, when he had lied to Lucien to save his own ass.

If this worked—no, when this worked—he wouldn’t have to lie to Lucien ever again. After tomorrow, there wouldn’t be any more secrets between them. There wouldn’t have to be. He could finally move on and live his life freely. Once and for all.

#new chapter!#did ya miss me?#it's been a while #my fanfic #acotar fanfic #tamlin x lucien #lucien x tamlin #tamcien

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