Dirty Hands (Kaz Brekker One Shots)

The Audition

Kaz stared at you as the small crowd surrounding the improvised stage of the bar cheered loudly at Inej and Jesper's performance. The leader of the troupe had established that for him to allow you all to go inside the palace with them, each of you had to have a talent that would let you blend in with the rest of the artists, but the thief wasn't exactly content with the idea of making you play your part —not so soon after your recent and final escape from the Menagerie; not with how much you had to leave of yourself with your audience every time.

He watched you as you hugged your frame to keep the blanket covering your body close to you, and he clenched his teeth and set his jaw. He didn't want to recognize that he was jealous, that he didn't want the rest to see you once again, that he didn't want them to imagine what they would do to you if you allowed them to. He was angry that he felt any of that in the first place. He had been forced to develop his insensitivity and ruthlessness far too young; he didn't need to develop unwanted feelings now that he was older.

Kaz stepped closer, and he met your eyes when you looked up at him with curiosity. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to," he stated in a low voice as his gaze returned to the cheery crowd that asked for an encore of the duo's act on stage.

You lulled your head to the side, the small chains dangling from the braid you had meticulously gathered your hair in clinking softly. "I need to get in too, remember?" you countered.

Kaz's irises returned to yours, this time to underline the meaning of his words. "We'll find another way in."

You observed his expression intently in silence, then offered him a soft smile as your hand poked out of the blanket to straighten the lapel of his leather coat. "You don't have to worry about me, Kaz."

He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip as he glanced down at your fingers and then to the side, slightly annoyed by the veracity of your statement.

"Although it's one of the things I love about you," you retorted as you caressed the thick material.

Kaz's eyes pivoted back to you at that, slightly taken aback by your choice of words. Nobody had ever loved anything about him since he arrived at Ketterdam all those years back. He had done a lot of things to make sure that that was a behemoth of a task. And yet, there you stood, with that warm smile and touch that gave him a new hope he wasn't sure he wanted.

You held his gaze for as long as you could, but a quick call and a questioning look from the troupe leader as your two friends finally abandoned the stage had you dropping your hand to your side and returning it to the security of the blanket covering your body. Kaz took a step back then, to give you —⁠and himself⁠— space to breathe.

"I'll be right here," he found himself saying as his expression settled into his characteristic stoicism.

You inhaled sharply and let the blanket that you had used equally for warmth and protection cascade down your arms before taking it completely off and folding it in half. Kaz offered a gloved hand then, and you gave it to him as a new, although fleeting, smile took over your lips.

"Thank you," you let out with a slight nod.

The attire you wore was thankfully not as revealing as the one you had sported back at the Menagerie —⁠you had borrowed it from one of the troupe dancers and had added just enough accessories to make it complement your performance⁠—, yet you couldn't help but feel equally naked under the eyes of so many people. Only a pair of sharp eyes granted you the peace of mind you were desperately looking for in that crowd, and they followed you wherever you went.

Kaz allowed himself to take in your new clothes momentarily. He breathed in slowly, filling his lungs with fresh oxygen as the small chains you had craftily hooked in places moved along with you. He didn't understand why you had that effect on him, why he couldn't just push you to the side like he did with everyone else when they were no longer of use.

He gripped the head of his cane tightly, and straightened up in place when Jesper and Inej joined his side. He wasn't interested in anybody else being privy of that information, but much less the sharpshooter.

He was almost certain that the Suli woman would hold that knowledge hostage against him, but that he could deal with. The Zemeni man, however, albeit his chosen right-hand in most brawls, was the embodiment of gossip, and Kaz became almost infuriated at the idea of the rumour of him potentially having feelings spreading across Ketterdam.

"I didn't know (Y/N) could look so..." Jesper started to say with a vague wave of his hand, but an untamed glare from the thief was all it took for him to abandon the idea of finishing his sentence.

One of the troupe artists brought out a drum the size of his torso and started a rhythmic tapping that soon engulfed the whole bar, and the three of them used that as an opportunity to leave that dangerous conversation aside.

Inej and Jesper shared a meaningful look anyway, but they lacked enough information to form an opinion on why their boss was angry this time — he always had reasons to be exasperated, it was part of his character by then.

Kaz chose to concentrate on the crowd instead. He eyed every man and woman like trying to decipher who was about to jump on stage to put a dagger through your heart, but he found his irises always coming back to your figure. To your swift and elegant moves, to the chains that called him with every jingle.

He forced himself to snap out of the trance he risked falling into and dedicated a quick glance to his companions: Jesper watched the performance intently, seduced like everybody else by the whole act, but Inej watched him, his expressions and movements, and the thief conceded himself a moment to close his eyes in preventive annoyance.

He'd never hear the end of that, would he.