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31_days2007-05-10 06:55 am
bane-6.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2007-05-10 06:55 am
May 10: Assassins. “Second Best”
Title: Second Best
Day/Theme: May 10: the understudy
Series:Character/Pairing: Bain
Rating: PG
He couldn’t remember ever being so hot. He had taken some miserable assignments before, but this one had him beside himself. Once he had posed as a homeless man and had worn a coat that stunk so badly it had gagged him twice before he had gotten to his post. A hardened assassin puking his guts out in a gutter? It had been embarrassing, but it had convinced anyone watching that he was some drunken low-life, even if they were upwind of the smell.
There were no witnesses to convince this time. He was alone in the loft. Heat baked down on him in shimmering waves. Sweat poured off him, warm as blood. There wasn’t even a breeze to cool it. His white shirt slowly became transparent against his skin. It was torment to sit and wait.
As much as he suffered, his attention wasn’t on it. Almost every fiber of his being was focused on the bank door. He spared a few for the rifle across his knee. He had studied and idolized his prey. He was going to kill his hero. It had to be perfect.
Day/Theme: May 10: the understudy
Series:Character/Pairing: Bain
Rating: PG
He couldn’t remember ever being so hot. He had taken some miserable assignments before, but this one had him beside himself. Once he had posed as a homeless man and had worn a coat that stunk so badly it had gagged him twice before he had gotten to his post. A hardened assassin puking his guts out in a gutter? It had been embarrassing, but it had convinced anyone watching that he was some drunken low-life, even if they were upwind of the smell.
There were no witnesses to convince this time. He was alone in the loft. Heat baked down on him in shimmering waves. Sweat poured off him, warm as blood. There wasn’t even a breeze to cool it. His white shirt slowly became transparent against his skin. It was torment to sit and wait.
As much as he suffered, his attention wasn’t on it. Almost every fiber of his being was focused on the bank door. He spared a few for the rifle across his knee. He had studied and idolized his prey. He was going to kill his hero. It had to be perfect.