Overtime

Feb. 1st, 2009 12:29 am
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Aryol laid his gloved hand on the doorknob, testing it silently.

The door was locked, but that was typical. The major took sensible precautions, considering there was a killer loose on base. Not that it could stop someone in Black Ops.

He shifted the lay of his rifle on his back and took out his lockpicks. He wore them on his gear belt in a soft leather case, carried them with him everywhere. That was standard procedure. A sniper never knew when he might have to break into a building in order to find a good nest to shoot from.

Or break into his lover's office in order to drag him to bed.

The lock was easy, and Aryol was good. It gave after a few seconds of work, and he put his lockpicks away and opened the door.

There was someone standing in front of him. Not the major.

A man, broad shouldered and broad chested. A broad brow, too, with short dark hair and a thick jaw. He looked somehow familiar, though Aryol couldn't place him immediately.

The man stared at Aryol, wide-eyed. Aryol wondered if he'd caught someone breaking into the major's office when he saw that Liadov was here too, standing to the side, leaning against the wall. Looking even more languid than usual.

Aryol smiled, slowly.

"Working late?"
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