circle7 | Steal a Kiss (or two)

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Steal a Kiss (or two)

It was early morning when Vico and Adamo had made it to Barcelona. They had traveled by boat from Roma on a mission for some vital information. Actually, it was a lead up to that Spanish noble who waltzed his way through Roma just two months earlier - one of his connections. They were to find out where the iron was being transported from, and to sabotage the operation.

However, it required a little courting. The official - a Senator - had an adventurous wife, it turned out, and they - well, one of them - was to court her while the other distracted the Senator at a party they were having that very night. (They would be under the guise of Borgia officials.)

As it turned out, though, sea travel did not get along with Adamo. He was heaving half the time, huddling in the most stable corner he could find. As they finally docked and reached an inn, he flopped into his bed, groaning into the pillow as he held his stomach. Everything still felt like it was tilting back and forth over and over.

"Let's take horses back. Ugh."

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A hand pushed Adamo back down by the shoulder. That was almost an instantaneous reaction. "You are sure?" Vico asked, suspicious.

Adamo grunted as he fell back onto the bed.

"No, but let's go anyway."

"I am not going to risk being noticed for you," said Vico, but he stood up, allowing Adamo to pull himself up. It was less a discouragement than it was an easy excuse, if Adamo chose to take it. Vico was perfectly capable of managing this part of the mission himself. He was perfectly capable of managing the entire thing himself, even if seducing wasn't exactly his forte. They were assassins, after all, and they did what was necessary.

Dropping his heavier weapons to the bed and strapping the more easily-concealed ones to reachable hiding places (under his tunic, into his boots, up his gloves), Vico patted himself down once again to make sure everything was secured before glancing back at his partner. "Dodici assassini in the Order, and I get stuck with the only one who gets seasick."

"It's not as though it's an assassination mission, amico," he said quietly as he got to his feet, because you never knew who could be listening. "Besides, I know you like missions with me the most." Ah, there it was - even if it wavered a little with queasiness, Adamo's usual boisterous grin was there.

Vico turned around, unfazed and waving an expressive hand. "I like missions with boats the most!"

Adamo glared at the back of his head, muttering within Vico's hearing range, "Ti odio."

Despite Adamo's handicap, their legwork went smoothly. The premises were heavily guarded, but the rooftops were less so. With their disguises (requiescat in pace, Eduardo Bianchi and Marco Marino - reborn so quickly), it wouldn't be a problem, so long as they didn't blow it. Considering how their last two missions went, particularly in Cologne, it would be a nice change in pace. A nice, smooth, Spanish banquet. Considering that Vico was actually enjoying himself and the surroundings, Adamo already had high hopes. So long as he didn't have to get on another damn boat for a while.

Back at the inn, after some lunch and exploring the general area, they had some time to kill before having to show up at the Senator's home. Adamo was using the minutes to sharpen his sword and throwing knives, cleaning each with cloth until they practically shined.

"Maybe we should try to have fun for once."

Sitting at the opposite end of the room, Vico was looking...absolutely bored. Though necessary, watching other people tend to their weapons was not exactly a choice form of entertainment, and pretty soon, the chin he had in his hand was going to slide off and bang itself into the table, at the rate he was zoning out. Finally, when he had had enough, he slapped both hands on the table and stood up. "You do not even need those for your part of the mission! Shouldn't you be-" He made strange, vague gestures with his hand. "...Making yourself handsome, or something?"

Sitting straighter, Adamo looked surprised, brows high on his forehead.

"...I did not realize you were so eager to get familiar with Madonna Ángelita."

"I am eager," drawled Vico, "to do something other than watch you polish your sword like a sad euphemism for what this mission is really for."

Well. About those pulled punches?

Adamo laughed, but tucked his cloth away, sheathing his sword. "You are impatient. We have a good hour before we need to be there. Anyway, these are in case the plan goes wrong."

Vico gave him a look. "I hardly think the kind madonna will be whipping out swords to greet you."

He just rolled his eyes. Standing up, Adamo dusted off his Borgia official clothes, giving their seal a look of disgust. "I suppose you are right, though. The sooner we are out of these, the better."

Following Adamo's eyes, Vico also lowered his eyes to the seal, mouth pressing into a thin line. He didn't much like the look of his friends in those corrupt colors, either. His costume, a much more discreet assistant's garb, was plainer than the officials', less frills, puffs, bells and whistles overall, since it would do them no good for them both to appear as flashy as Adamo was, by nature (and frankly, Vico preferred it this way). Vico swept out a hand and gave a deep, mock-respectful bow, holding open the door with his head down to hide his smirk. "Then, after you, señor."

They spent a few minutes on the street just practicing the swagger, but Adamo was a complete natural at the role. Sooner rather than later, they were on their way, walking the streets like they owned it as they made their way to the rendezvous point. With ample research, Vico and Adamo had Madonna Garcia's schedule down to every minute detail - the Spanish spoke easily and freely about their local peoples of interest, especially those serving the Borgia and making lives difficult for everyone. They would be meeting her in the market, under the guise of simply happening upon here there. (Imagine the coincidence, señora.)

Adamo was a natural for things like acting. At least, when it came to acting like a pompous Borgia official. Only Vico would know he did it mockingly - anyone else would believe that was simply the arrogant air of a man in such a position. Luckily for them, it turned out the senator's wife was fluent in Italian, making the mission that much easier. Adamo knew as much Spanish as his Italian language would allow. Hearing it was one thing, but speaking it was difficult. Thankfully, Vico did not have such barriers.

As they walked into the market, Adamo scanned the crowd subtly, eyes tilted to a carefully hidden angle under his hat. There was quite a crowd to sift through, but eventually he caught sight of a noble woman who had servants carrying her things, and buying things for the sake of carrying them for her. With the way she cast her eyes upon the men around the market, Adamo was sure they had their match. He motioned Vico to follow, feigning interest in the stands around them as he approached slowly.

What Adamo hadn't counted on was the senator himself being there with her. He hadn't seen Señor Garcia on the other end of the market, walking back to his wife to rejoin her.

"Merda, the senator is here," he mumbled to Vico. Courting the wife would have to wait - they would simply exchange formalities for now. When they were close enough, Adamo took a double glance at the pair a few feet away, looking surprised. "Senator Garcia?" The man looked up, wearing particularly extravagant clothes for the occasion, Adamo imagined. His wife looked up as well, and while in the presence of her husband, only seemed mildly curious about the men before her.

"Si?" For a moment, confusion was on his face. "Ah, Borgia's men! Welcome to Spain! I did not expect to find you here in the market."

Vico only bowed, half a step behind Adamo, as expected of the role he was playing. There was something odd in the way the Senator measured them up; it was not unlike how his wife was sweeping her eyes over them, and Vico fought down the urge to fidget. Did they suspect something already? Had they given themselves away somehow? That was impossible; the Senator should have known nothing - they had ambushed the real Borgia officials long before the Spaniards would have had a chance to meet them, so then what was with that overly-curious look they were being given? By both husband and wife, no less?

It might have been just paranoia, but Vico kept his head down respectfully, letting the little red beret slide over his bangs, obscuring his face. He just hoped Adamo could handle this passably, but just in case... Behind his back, he fingered one of the throwing knives strapped to the inside of his belt.

Adamo had noticed, but his facade didn't waver. He greeted the two enthusiastically, deciding small talk was best - they would not want to talk business out in the open like this. It would be foolish.

"I am surprised to see you here," Adamo said with a bow. "Is it your party not about to begin? Marco and I were just about to head there after a glance at some of the fine Spanish jewelry. Such different quality than Italia's."

"Ah, yes, indeed," Senator Garcia said with a nod. By now, the strange glances they were being given had stopped - apart from the wife's. She was eying Vico. "I do not blame you. Well, I believe we have our last minute party preparations. Sorry our meeting had to be so short - but we will have the rest of the party to ourselves, hm?" The look and pat on the shoulder - that ran down the length of his arm - he gave Adamo was definitely not your usual hearty parting gesture. Adamo simply nodded, bowing his head with a smile.

"Adios, for now," the wife finally spoke up with a kind smile of her own, and as she left, her gaze finally detached from Vico - not before sweeping down and back up, though.

As soon as they left, Vico looked up. He threw a suspicious glance over his shoulder at the departing couple, only to meet the Madonna Garcia's still lingering eyes, and he snapped his head back around, swearing under his breath as he and Adamo leisurely made their way through the rest of the market. "They are strange," he announced, only loud enough for the two of them to hear, however, as soon as they were out of earshot. "I think they are suspicious. That is dangerous."

As soon as they were outside the market, where the crowds were more sparse, he laughed.

"They are not suspicious," he said, simple and without explanation.

"They were!" Vico protested, looking uncomfortable in his guard's uniform. "It is like they knew! They kept on staring at you, Adamo. We are not well-armed. If they had called enough guards on us, we would have been done for."

"Idiota, they were interested," Adamo clarified, with a roll of his eyes. He knew those kinds of looks anywhere. Figured that Vico was clueless.

A pause.

"They were?" Vico said, pulling back incredulously and scanning Adamo over with a look that said he had no idea what in the world on this person could possibly interest anyone ever.

Edited 2011-02-18 18:41 (UTC)

"I guess they failed to inform us that the both of them are adventurous," he said thoughtfully, rubbing the stubble on his chin, ignoring the look he was being given. "Very well. Madonna Garcia looked more interested in you. Court her instead."

Instantly, he recoiled. "Court her instead? Who will you be courting? That is your job!"

Edited 2011-02-18 18:48 (UTC)

So oblivious, Vico. Adamo couldn't help but grin. "So you would prefer the senator? Not that I mind, but... I didn't think he would be your type."

"I- ...what?" It was a very rare occasion when Vico was taken by so much surprise, that he was past words and well into the 'speechless' territory. He looked absolutely bewildered for a moment, frowning to himself as if trying to figure out this particular in-joke that he was not privy to, but Adamo clearly was. It only dawned on him after a minute - the exact moment made obvious by the widening of his eyes.

He clasped onto Adamo's wrist, looking alarmed. "I cannot allow you to sacrifice yourself like that!"

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