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The thing was, he reflected as the last of their attackers dropped in the snow, the other guy acted like he was so much younger. As if there was a generation gap between them, instead of, what, a couple of years maybe? Five years max. His natural hair color was lighter, that was all, and he styled it with a little more volume. But the crow's feet and the hair on his chin were a giveaway; that beard was coming in solid gray.
Okay, he might be a little fitter. All that running around may have been slightly impressive, from the perspective of the driver's seat as they'd followed the kid's mad flight through the streets of Chinatown. Powerful thighs, well-toned glutes; it took a lot to maintain that kind of physique after certain age-related milestones passed by. Ask him how he knew. The dedication was to be respected.
In essentials, though? The kid hadn't been wrong. It would be stupid not to admit that the whole evening had been like staring into a distorted mirror, or some video deepfake with a few details carefully altered. Identical height, complementary styles, apparently all the same contacts, and – much as either of them might hate to admit it – very similar personalities and aptitudes for the work. They basically were the same guy; their techniques might differ in detail but not in effect. It was enough to make anyone feel a little devalued, even before the surprise conclusion of their adventure. Maybe that was where all the defensive jokes had been coming from.
On the other hand, there were upsides to suddenly being half of a pair instead of one of a kind. And good thing too, considering the sudden enforced end of their separate careers. With their handler after both of them since whatever sketchy drug-and-politics scheme he'd had going had fucked up and led to them meeting each other and starting to connect dots? Yeah, sayonara to both of the bolt holes they'd been so determined to preserve that the gal at that sketchy motel definitely thought they were a couple spicing up their relationship with a male prostitute less than half their age. But it had been a long, lonely couple of decades for him, and the other guy would probably say the same; it was hard to form any kind of lasting connection in a life where trust was actively disincentivized.
After so long walking the razor's edge, actually letting their guard down might be asking a lot, but ... they already understood each other pretty fucking well. They'd come up with that act to fool Dimitri without so much as exchanging a word, even if the ruse had proved superfluous in the end. They'd played off one another's strengths through all the evening's assorted roadblocks and challenges, and had ultimately come to the same conclusion about the kid. Tendency to posture and bicker about stupid shit aside, they might actually make good partners. And partners had the resources to do things that one lone wolf on his own did not.
Possibly even in contexts that required a lot less clothing. Though probably – given the givens – just as much Advil in the aftermath. He'd already been feeling pretty creaky even before the post-breakfast firefight; it might not rise to a June-level emergency, but he was pretty sure he'd be feeling the after-effects of the last day for longer than he'd like, and he doubted he was alone in that.
"Hey." The brisk breeze through the broken window was refreshingly cold on the stinging cuts from the shattered glass and the searing burn of a near miss, but it tickled irritatingly at the back of a throat roughened from late hours and reckless activity. "You good?"
The other guy kept his weapon trained on the sprawled forms outside as he gave a sharp nod. "For now, at least. You?"
"Eh. More or less. Though I recommend we get out of here sooner rather than later."
That observation was answered with a wry grimace. "Given how quick the diner cleared out, yeah. How much do you want to bet we got the original recommendation from the same place?"
"No bet." A guy with the resources to manage them both? A few key pieces of real estate anchoring known routines would make a great way to keep tabs without resorting to the measures Ms. Dowd-Herdry had taken in her blackmail-collecting hotel. "How many more do you think our guy has on call?"
A huff of amused breath preceded the answer. "Enough."
"Yeah, you're probably right." The power scale involved probably mattered more than the actual size of the guy's stable; the DA and the hotelier were far from the first people who'd been slipped a number and a promise of future help in exchange for a little consideration. All those grateful favors would add up to one hell of a force multiplier in times of need; Manhattan was probably going to be very inhospitable to both fixers for the foreseeable future. "But I don't think I'm up to a long drive just yet. How do you feel about another hotel in the meantime? Something between the hour-rate Safari Room and the ten-thousand-a-night penthouse, I think."
Intense blue eyes looked him up and down; then the other guy quirked his mouth and tucked his weapon away. "One bed or two?"
An eyeroll wasn't enough of a response for that reply, but it was about all he had the energy for as he secured his own handgun and headed for the door. The crunch of ice and sharper things underfoot as he stepped outside made him very glad it wasn't a John McClane type of situation; his life might have devolved into some kind of ludicrous action movie when he wasn't paying attention, but at least it wasn't that kind of action movie. "Dealer's choice."
"Man, you really were going to miss me, even before we realized we'd been set up. I thought so, the way you hesitated over saying goodbye. Gotta tell you, though, I usually don't put out on the first date." He didn't even have to look to hear the shit-eating grin in the other guy's voice. Good; still bickering or not, it seemed they'd landed on the same page there, too.
"Don't give me that; I saw the look on your face on the subway when you thought I was injured." He couldn't help but smirk back. "As it happens, though, that's just a bonus; what I really want is a place to shower and regroup where there probably won't be another ambush waiting."
"Sure, sure. And that requires us sticking together, does it?"
Now, how to answer that one without derailing the mood? There'd be time enough to discuss pooling their efforts to either defuse the threat or set up again somewhere else when they weren't newly hyper-aware of the press of mortality and apparently both itching to do something about it. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, dropping it and crushing it under one heel, as he replied. "You tell me. Can we really be said to have survived this, if we don't actually reach a safe place?"
The reminder had the intended effect. "You fucker," his new partner said as he copied his actions. "After all of that, you're not actually going to tell me your name?"
"Hey, you're the one who suggested it first, and I notice you haven't offered yours up either." He threw a wry, warm glance over his shoulder. Around them, the area was still suspiciously empty of human life; that probably wouldn’t last long, but hopefully long enough to obscure their escape until they could find some other form of transportation. Luckily, the snow outside the diner had already been churned up pretty well by the firefight, and surprise surprise, most of their attackers wore the same kind of shoes. No one fancying himself a tracker would be able to trace their steps by that, at least.
The other guy tucked his hands in his jacket pockets and fell into step next to him at about the same time he did; yet another echo reverberating between them. "Well, hell. You know where my newest scar is, we carry the same type of backup pistol, and if I'd died at any point in the last twenty-four hours yours probably would have been the last face I'd seen. Some things go a little past labels."
"Truer words." They shared another warm glance, shoulders brushing together, then turned in unison down the next street without discussing that either.
"So..." he brought up after a moment, when the normal noise of the city began to fill the air around them again. "Am I going to get to see that scar? Or should I be making other plans."
"Oh, I don't know. Think you can stand the comparison?" His companion mused, voice light.
"Oh," he replied, tone rich with promise, "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."