Thief+Dishonored Fics And Crossovers

Bark and Bite

By the time Garrett has picked all the hay out of both his clothes and the Clock Tower, and gotten his and Basso's due, plus interest, from that lying noble, he actually managed to put Lord Attano at the back of his mind.

Unfortunately, the wily bastard wouldn't stay there.

Basso's latest job has him tracking down a letter. Unopened, but he'll know it by the seal: a pair of crossed swords pressed in red wax. The seal belongs to the client, a well-off merchant; the letter belongs to his wife. He claims she's using his seal to send letters to his business partner, Simmons. He suspects infidelity and he's paying quite a bit to have it verified or disproved. Naturally he wants this done without his wife or business partner catching wind of it.

Naturally, Garrett is the man for the job.

A handful of days later, his lockpicks find their way into the backdoor of the merchant's house, allowing him to slip into the merchant's workshop. The drunk Watchman at the end of the alley doesn't hear a thing.

Simmons doesn't keep anything worth taking in his workshop; it's mostly rolls of cloth stored on ceiling-high shelves. He isn't keeping the letter down here. Important documents, especially the kind people don't want to be found, are usually in an office or a bedroom. Why they don't just burn them after reading is the type of sentimental thinking he's never understood.

Garrett slinks up the stairs into an empty sitting room. No guards, no lovers. He nabs a silver candlestick off a table and rescues a couple of stray coins lying almost underneath a chair before he registers the sound of two different voices coming from the dining room--one with an accent that's becoming all too familiar. He stops beside the doorway, braces himself for the worst, and looks inside.

The table is empty of all dishes and silverware save for two cups of coffee. Simmons has his hands wrapped around one, nodding along with the conversation. Attano sits at the opposite end of the table, nursing his own cup in gloved hands.

"--been jealous," Simmons is saying. "He... Won't handle this well."

"Then it sounds like I made the right choice coming to you instead," Attano says.

Garrett rolls his eyes.

Simmons sighs and taps his nails against his cup. "It doesn't feel right not to include him, is all I'm saying. He's my business partner."

"The Empress is only offering a way for you and your partner to sell your goods more widely. It won't be a secret you'll have to keep," he reassures him. "Think of the money to be made. The opportunities. This is something he'll thank you for."

"I don't know..."

Garrett tries to stifle his irritation as his mind starts whirring. With Attano here he'll have to be more careful than he first thought. But this could still work in his favor. That means two of his biggest obstacles will be focused on each other. He'll have almost free rein of the place, assuming Simmons doesn't have a horde of Watchmen stuffed upstairs.

He glances at Simmons, looking closely at his belt. It doesn't look like he has the letter on him, but he hasn't gotten this far in life because he was sloppy. He takes one slow breath, then another. On the exhale, the room around him bleeds into gray, save for the two men sitting at the table. Simmons gleams the expected shade of harmless blue, no letter attached to his belt. Attano is a tense shade of yellow. Caution.

He drifts away from the doorway, letting the Primal settle back down, when he hears Simmons' voice raised in concern.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine." Attano's voice, rigid with... Uncertainty? Fear? "Sorry. You were saying?"

He doesn't know what sort of training that man has, but he's learned the hard way to be careful around him. He has to make this quick. He moves from one room to the next, searching as fast as he can without missing any obvious details. He even checks the ashes in the fireplace in the sitting room. The letter isn't downstairs.