Chapter Text
The sun was high that day as Samuel, Nathan, and Sullivan headed into the small rental shack. It was on the outskirts of the town, at the very edge of the marketplace, so there was hustle and bustle on its right side and silence and open grasslands on the other. The cars were lined up behind the shack itself, which was an open-air little building with a small, rough roof, and Sully was quick to start haggling with the man behind the counter, while Sam and Nathan leaned against one of the shack's posts. Sam started smoking a cigarette.
You had just come up from the harbor down at the bottom of the hill, having done your dives for the morning, and were still clad in your wetsuit, barefoot and damp and feeling fully alive. But, hey; you felt like that all the time after being in the water. And it was a beautiful day, and you were off to have some lunch in the marketplace.
Spirits high, you headed towards Jameson's shack--he was one of your favorite people here, and you'd bonded immediately when you started renting jeeps from him four years ago. That was back when you'd first arrived, and now you approached him easily, relaxed and with a big grin on your face, looking fully exhilarated from your swim. Sam and Nathan both straightened as you arrived, their eyes traveling up and down over your lithe, wetsuit-clad body.
You didn't notice either of them, too distracted by what you clearly heard to be Jameson's fake broken English as he negotiated with an old man at the counter.
"Jameson!" You said with a chastising grin, interrupting them smoothly. You could feel all three men watching you, surprised at the intrusion, but you kept your eyes and your scolding on your friend. "I did not spend three years teaching you English to watch you fuck around with these poor boys." You gestured at the men and threw them a kind, cheerful smile. The two younger ones stepped closer, grinning back--Nathan could practically see his brother's eyes bugging out, and figured he knew exactly what was going through his head--and the older man let out a laugh, raising an eyebrow towards Jameson.
Jameson shrugged, trying to keep up the charade--oftentimes tourists would rather pay up than have to struggle through international communication--and plaintively said in Malagasy "Inona no resinao, Y/N? Lo no hany fiteny azoko lazaina!" (What are you talking about, Y/N? This is the only language I speak!).
Your face grew stern, and you threw one of the candies on the counter at him. You were an athletic person, and a trained fighter, and the candy hit him square in the forehead. "Ow!" He flinched, and you and the three men burst out laughing. "ENGLISH," you said, still giggling, and you put your hands on your hips casually.
Jameson groaned, and broke character, slipping into his normal voice. "For God's sakes, Y/N, how's a man ever going to make a profit if you keep stopping him from fleecing the foreigners?!"
The older man laughed. "Well, AS one of said foreigners I'd like to thank you. And judging by your accent, I'd say I'm not the only foreigner. Victor Sullivan." He took your hand and kissed it. You laughed, smiling, and Nate felt his brother turn away in frustration for a second and mutter "Jesus Christ."
"Y/N L/N", you said lightly, but he straightened up a little more. "Y/N L/N. I've heard that name." He leaned back to look at you, and thoughtfully took a pull on his cigar. "You're that diver. Underwater archaeology, right?"
Normally you would have been surprised at the recognition--but just like he knew your name, you also knew his. And even if you didn't already know who Victor Sullivan was, you'd have known by default that he ran in your kinds of circles. You weren't exactly known in the more LEGAL archaeological communities, or the diving ones. The other men looked even more interested now, and Nathan could swear that he felt his brother's body humming eagerly to get your attention from Sully.
"You're supposed to be the best of the best," Victor said. You liked the grumbly sound of his voice.
You shrugged and smiled, brushing off the compliment easily. "Hey, I get to be in the water on hot days like this, right?"
The men laughed a little, and Sullivan--ever the gentleman, and deciding to grant some mercy on Sam--stepped back a little to introduce his friends. "This is Nathan Drake, whom you might have heard of, and his brother Sam."
You shook their hands, smiling. Sam couldn't help grinning back, but inwardly was still cursing at Sully. He'd wanted to kiss your hand, but he couldn't do it as HIS thing since Victor had already just done it to you. So he settled on a smile and a wink and a low "Hey."
You beamed at them both. You liked meeting fellow Americans, especially in your line of business. And especially hot ones. "Hi!" you said, addressing both of them as you moved from shaking his hand to shaking his brother's. "And yes, I HAVE heard of you. From what I hear, most of this world wouldn't still be standing if you hadn't done what you did in Shambhala. So, you know," you laughed, making a comically vague gesture with your now-free hands "Thanks."
Nathan laughed at that, and Sam bristled a little at his brother getting the extra attention. He'd really have to up his game and find this treasure--and hopefully many more. Especially if it was going to impress girls like you.
"So I take it you boys need a 4 by 4?" you asked, hands on your hips again and looking between them happily. "Yes we do," Sullivan said, smoking his cigar. Sam smoked a cigarette that you hadn't even noticed. Jameson opened his mouth to speak, but you held up a hand jokingly. "Shut up, Jameson. You owe me a favor."
Jameson grumbled, but tossed you the keys. "You'll be a wanting a winch, I assume," you said as you led them around the back to the cars. "Actually, yes," Nathan said excitedly, and Sully groaned. "Yes, FINE Nate, we're getting a winch."
You laughed at the father-son banter and approached the sturdiest one of the cars. You'd rented all of these before--each one was a different make--and knew that this one could withstand some serious heat.
"Here you go. Best one of the bunch. Who's driving?" "Me," Nate said quickly, and Sully groaned again. "Goddamnit, Nate, you drive like a six year-old kid."
"Shh, no I don't," he said, scoffing and taking the proffered keys with a smile. "Thanks, Y/N. Don't we have to sign something, and pay, or...?"
You laughed and brushed it off, gesturing in the air with one hand still on your hip. "Nah, Jameson owes me. And besides" you looked at them with a rueful smile, speaking a little more quietly "I think we all know this jeep's not coming back."
They looked surprised, and Sam's gaze sharpened to focus on you. "What makes you think that?" he asked, and you heard his accent for the first time.
"Well--" you laughed and gave a sheepish half-shrug, leaning into the car sideways and pulling a map out of the glove-box "you might know me, Victor, but I also know you. AND I happen to know that there's a certain Shoreline battalion already combing the area just above the river valley, near a certain volcano." The army's arrival had been the talk of the harbor this morning, and you tended to keep an ear out for such things. "So..." you unfolded the map and handed it to Nathan with a friendly smirk "good luck."
"Wait, you--" Sam looked confused, then impressed. Sully chuckled and smoked his cigar, muttering "God damn."
"You boys from Boston?" you asked Sam. He looked impressed again. "Yeah. You?"
"Yeah. Mattapan." He grinned. "Hey, us too!"
"It's been a while since I've seen any other Americans, particularly any from New England. Except for Rafe Adler, but he's not exactly a bundle of joy to be around."
"You've met him? Is he here?" They looked alarmed.
"Yeah, he's here somewhere, but I haven't seem him today yet. I don't think he's out in the valley with the trucks. More likely he's sitting somewhere gelling his hair." They chuckled at that, and you gave the truck a once-over before starting to leave, walking backwards with a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you boys! Take care of yourselves!"
"Hey, hold up," Sam said suddenly, lifting his cigarette-wielding hand in the air. You looked at him, questioning, and he got the words out before he could blush. "We might need an underwater archaeologist sometime. You got a phone number?"
"I've got a boat phone," you said kindly, recognizing what Sam was doing but trying to keep the tone light and platonic anyway. You leaned back into the car, grabbing its one pen, and scribbled your number on the back of Nathan's map, taking it from him with a sweet "Thank you" before giving it back. "So that'll work, unless of course my boat blows up...which, since SHORELINE is around, it actually might." Your laugh let them know you were kidding, and you left with a smile and a wave. "Good luck guys!"
"Smooth, Sam," Sully said sarcastically, smoking his cigar as they all watched you go, briskly headed towards the marketplace, ponytail swinging.
"I mean, I'M impressed," Nathan said supportively, and Sam patted him on the back affectionately, hopping in the back before they could see his face redden.
As Nate started driving, Sam asked "Hey, you think finding Libertalia--you think finding a treasure like that'll impress a girl like her?"
"With a girl like that, that's probably the ONLY thing that'll impress her," Sully laughed, sitting shotgun.