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Summary
Fifteen years ago, Colt would have done something dumb and brash, would have tried to beat this guy to the punch, risked him willing to get Colt out of the way to get the pay. It’s not fifteen years ago, though. It’s now, and Colt is fifteen years more wise, with a bum spine. And all his wisdom says if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Or, you know, get ‘em to join you.
“Hey,” Colt calls, and the guy doesn’t move. “Hey, buddy. You looking for a friend?”
Slowly, whisper quiet, the guy turns his head, his eyes pulling away from the building a beat afterwards. He makes eye contact with Colt and Colt feels the whole world melt away, just for a moment, even as far apart as they are. Then the moment passes, and Colt’s moving, striding towards his new friend.
“Colt Seavers,” he says, holding out his hand.
“Not very smart to give me your full name,” the man murmurs, pulling his hand away after the customary three shakes.
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Fifteen years ago, Colt Seavers left vampire hunting behind. Driver watched him leave.
Fifteen years later, Colt's stunt career exploded along with his spine, and Driver watches him return.
(And it was never going to stop at watching.)