Stephen Harlan pocketed his phone, digging out a decent tip for his waitress; he hadn't had an empty cup since he entered the place. He stood, dusting off idly as he strode out of the shop, looking to the world as a man ready to retire home; yet even off the clock, Stephen was already working. No one knew the streets of New York like him, and if someone was shadowing him, they'd give him all he needed trying to keep up.

Sure enough, no matter where he went, his wisened eyes caught a reflection, just occasionally, in his peripheral; shop windows trully were a luxury of the city. He knew the kid was smart, but he doubted he would waste the resources to have a second and more skilled tailed providing overwatch... this was all posturing, something he was all to familiar with. His feet naturally took him down a dark alleyway, his glasses naturally giving him a low light vision enhancement; it wasn't night vision, but it was more of an edge than he needed.

What he came upon, however, was not at all what he expected; a young man lay bleeding, as a couple of thugs not unlike his late protege where taking turns kicking him. Harlan had not seen the fight, but he assumed it was won because the boy was a coward; he had the look, and a fighter would still have some defiance left. None of the thugs even seemed winded, let alone injured, confirming his suspicion.

Stephen continued to walk forward, one of them taking notice of him.
"Old man, you better just turn around." His voice was meant to intimidate, but harder men had said the same thing to the veteran, and it hadn't worked then.

"But I'm going this way." Harlan explain, moving to go around the man.
"If you're not going to listen to me, you better listen to this! Turn around!" The man barked, the glint of a switch blade catching the light. The other two men looked up and laughed, walking towards Stephen.

"Naw man, let's see what he's got, since he's headed our way." One laughed.
"I'm twice your age, kid." Stephen spoke calmly, as they formed a circle around him; pure bloody amatures... their relaxed stances exuded over confidence.

The knife lashed out, all force and no technique; Harlan grabbed the offender by his wrist and elbow, and wrenched hard, causing something to pop, before he sweeped the man's leg. The man lay yelling in pain, the other two showing their youth; they stood dumbfounded, long enough for one to recieve a palm thrust to the jaw that nearly knocked him out. The other reached into his coat, only to have Stephen on him; the older man slammed him against the wall, one hand pinning his weapon arm inside his coat, while a brutal series of elbows to the temple and knife hand chops rendered the man limp.

Harlan drew the weapon out of the man's coat before allowing him to crumple to the ground, the veteran assassin grumbling about cheap .38s before taking it apart and dropping the peices in the dumpster. Then, as if nothing had happened, he began to walk down the alley once more, pausing only as he stood beside the open mouthed and bloodied teenager.

"Th...thanks..." The boy managed eventually, as Stephen eyed him.
"I didn't do it for you." Harlan responded cooly, as the kid hung his head.
"Nah... of course you didn't." The boy said dejectedly, picking up some of the comic books and course work that had spilled out of his bag.
"You didn't even fight back." Stephen said, critical; the flash of a lighter in the dark illuminated his hard features, the light dying down as he took a long drag of his ciggarette.

"I don't know how to fight..." The boy groaned, the strain of getting up almost too much for his bruised body.
"Neither did I at first; that didn't mean I got my ass kicked every day." The older man retorted, leaning against the wall and watching the boy.
"Yeah, well I'm not that kind of guy." The kid sighed, wincing at a fresh cut.
"No, you're the kind of kid who reads manga and comic books and dreams of being that kind of guy, am I right? The one waiting for someone to tell them they were born for greatness or some bs, right?" Stephen asked, letting the barb sink deep.

"What? You s... yeah." The Kid's eyes had hardened for a fraction of a second; and that look was one Stephen hadn't seen in a long time.
"What if I told you I was that guy?" Stephen asked, offering the struggling boy a hand. The boy blinked up at him, before taking it and standing.
"What do you mean...?" The boy whispered, following as Harlan began walking.
"Your Obi-wan Kenobi, Pai Mei, etc... what if I told you I could give you the tools and knowledge to become more than you are?" The man asked, walking him out of the alley, before leaning him against the wall; he then stood and seemed to be counting, a finger to his lips.

It was then that Harlan's hand reached back into the shadows and pulled someone out of the shadows with a squeak; a girl in suburbanite clothing looked at him with wide eyes, his grip releasing her arm. Stephen looked her over, somehow giving the impression that his eyes could frisk out any hidden weapons better than most people's hands.

"Look, I don't want to hurt your self esteem, kid, but if you're going to watch me, you might aswell stop trying to be all sneaky." Harlan sighed, taking a long drag of his ciggarette as the girl glared daggers at him.
"Now then, kid, I'm giving you the chance to join the Assassin's Guild." Harlan said, with as much seriousness as possible; he watched the disbelief wash over both their faces, silencing the girl with a finger against her pert lips.

"What, are you serious?" The Kid said with disbelief, as Harlan stared at him deadpan; watched as the smile faded from the boy, who looked away.
"I bet if I say no you'll kill me, right?" The boy asked, rubbing a bruise.
"I'd put money on that bet." Harlan affirmed, flicking his ciggarette butt away.
"Than yes... when do I report in?" He asked, looking hopeful.
"Tomorrow morning, six o'clock; pack light." Harlan said calmly, giving the kid a pat on the shoulder, as he put an arm around his stalker and walked her away.

"Mr. Harlan, what the hell?" She grumbled irritated, struggling against his arm.
"Sorry if this hurts your pride, miss...?" He asked calmly, as she resigned to walk with him for the time being.

"Journeyman Leslie Barrett." She admitted, keeping pace with his brisk walk.
"And you know me." Stephen filled in, examining her figure.
"Why did you recruit that boy?" She asked after a long pause.
"Because it's easier to train a body than a mind." He replied off hand, leading her into a fine restaurant. Leslie tried to protest, but gave up as they were lead to a private booth.

"You know this makes me look bad, right?" She sighed, rubbing her temple.
"Oh come off it; I'm buying, anyway." He replied, purusing the wine menu.
"Damn right you are." She grumbled, ordering an expensive vintage. It was a few more drinks into the high priced meal that she started to become more talkative.

"So am I really that bad...?" She asked, her hope dangling on a thread.
"No; in fact, until the kid mentioned I was being tailed, I didn't even notice you... you've got a gift for this sort of thing, Miss Barrett." Harlan gave her a rare smile, savouring his prime cut steak with a sigh.
"Oh... thanks." Leslie blushed ever so slightly, before changing the subject.
"So, um... why the boy again? I mean really..." she asked, as he smiled.

"I don't know... honestly, off the record?" He asked, giving her a faux defensive look that made her nearly laugh out loud.
"Yeah, I'm just curious, you know?" Miss Barrett affirmed, leaning forward.
"I caught a look in his eye when I called him a geek; a spark of determination and defiance... and if I can convince him to let that spark ignite a fire, he could be one of the greatests there's ever been." Harlan explained, refilling both their glasses as she pondered over this.

"That sounds pretty deep... and metaphysical, you know?" She pondered aloud, her hand swirling the wine in it's glass, before she had another drink.
"Eh, you wanted to know, there you have it... I've got a knack for these things, Miss Barrett." He said with a good natured shrug, rolling his eyes at the check.

"I'm sure you do, Stephen... and you can call me Leslie." She smiled, walking out of the expensive restaurant with him to a waiting cab.

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"I'm sure this wasn't what the King had in mind..." Leslie Barrett remarked with a sigh and a stretch, enjoying the feel of a high threadcount bed.
"No, I bet it wasn't." Stephen gave her a grin, standing and stretching himself, before walking over to his computer and getting to work.
"I was thinking of a shower soon... would you like to join me?" She asked, with a twinkle in her eye.

"I don't know if I could handle any more of that, but I'll give it a try; just give me a minute to email my Cadre and tell them to be ready." He remarked, flashing her a smile as she stood up and walked to the bathroom. Stephen earlier had taken a picture of the kid's I.D. with his cell phone and sent it through the usual work up channels, the information waiting in his inbox.

"See you tomorrow, kid." Harlan remarked, mimicing a gun with his hand, before being drawn to the bathroom by the sound of running water.

__________________
"When they ask how I died, tell them; Still Angry." -Quellcrist Falconer
"It was Kovacs who said "Mother" then, muffled under latex.
It was Kovacs who closed his eyes.
It was Rorschach who opened them again." -Rorschach