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"That you did," he commented, going ahead and tossing another punch, "..my shoulder is getting tired," he commented, he supposed he could switch hands, but then he'd look terribly sloppy.

He lowered his hands, looking slightly disappointed. For a moment, he was still - then his leg swept against Gwyn's knees while he moved to catch the other man if he needed to.

His knees shot back and then forehead, and he did very nearly fall. Luckily, he had better balance (which still wasn't good). Eye twitched for a second only slightly stunned, "-have you gone mad? That doesn't feel too good, you know?"

Jasper had quickly grabbed his shouler to help steady him. "Sorry. Wanted to see your reflexes. I'll stop now." He dropped his hand

"It's fine, I'm still alive," he joked, "-what sort of help would you be forcing on me?"

"I don't know yet. Do you have any skills?" he asked, turning his back to Gwyn to unhook the training bag from the ceiling.

Rubbing the back of his neck, "It's not hard to get back into the habit of killing something when it's needed," he shrugged his shoulders, "- of course, I was used to your good old fashioned street fight."

He hauled the training bag to dump it in the corner it had been. "I see." His hands went to his hips, trying to think of what to say.

Stepping around, his knees hurt, "I should have held off on that nap," he laughed, nipping his lip.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, tilting his head slightly at Gwyn as he scooped up a towel from the floor to mop up his sweat.

"Because now I'm sore," he smiled, slipping out of his sweater.

His lips twitched in response. "Hm. Do you want me to help with that," he offered, squeezing his own shoulder.

"Huh, oh," he smiled, "..yea, please.. Do you want me to return the favor?"

He blinked, not expecting that, then vaguely shrugged "Sure, when I'm done with you."

He smiled, "Pick your place then," he stated, his hands wresting on his hips.

Since they were sitting on the floor, he spun his finger in the air. "Turn around, then."

Turning his body, he pulled his hair over one of his shoulders with closed eyes.

Jasper flexed his fingers, then gently placed his large hands on Gwyn's shoulders, pressing against his muscles in slow circles.

At first Gwyn twitches away but relaxed under those hands, he couldn't begin to imagine just how tense his muscles had to be. After all, he didn't stretch like Jasper had. His hands rested in his lap, a few dozen thoughts working their way through his head.

Jasper's hands were slow, methodical, and strong. His thumbs gently rotated their way across Gwyn's shoulderblades.

He felt like pudding under those hands, he doubted his hands would nearly as firm and warm when the roles reversed.

"Feel good?" he murmured, his thumbs beginning their steady journey down Gwyn's back.

He only nodded before giving a verbal, "Yes," he would have been content with those hands stopping at his shoulders, but he wasn't going to complain.

His hands went all the down to the small of Gwyn's back, then glided back up to his shoulders to run up his neck.

Gwyn twitches when the the soft, fine hairs on the back of his neck were touched. Opening his eyes, he shifted slightly, "Sorry."

"It's fine." His thumbs glided back down to his shoulders, beginning a deep massage this time. "Let me know when you want me to stop."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he stated, wincing a second at the added pressure, "..it's not too often I get a good looking man to give me a massage, you know," he teased.

He smiled silently at Gwyn's back, his hands working their way down his shoulder blades again, much more slowly this time.

"You just tell me when you want to stop and we'll switch," and if Jasper wasn't careful, Gwyn was going to fall asleep.

"Almost done," he murmured, laying his palms on either side of his spine before giving him one smooth rub done, then shifted back. "Ready."

Shifting so he face the man, he flexed his fingers before they rested against Jasper's shoulders before starting to rub them, "I haven't done this in.. Awhile."

Jasper's eyes fluttered for a second at the contact, but he turned his head slightly to glance back at Gwyn. "Same."

His own hands travelled the man's shoulders and then up his neck before moving done the length of his back, "- and the last time you received a massage," he asked being careful not to pinch any of the man's nerves.

The assassin's head had been slowly drooping, his chin brushing his own chest as he swayed slightly. "...I think this is my first."

When he'd finished massaging the man's back he let's his hands run over that skin in a much softer motion, "..does it feel okay?"

He hesitated, eyes still closed, then murmured, "..yes." This massage was reminding him how he much craved another person's touch.

Gwyn had since intended to stay just where he was, he'd be there to touch and annoy Jasper every day if the man wanted, he smiled, "Good," hands retracing and massaging the man's shoulders.

Jasper was silent, relishing the touch. His back had been stiff, though there were no muscle knots. It was completely soft now. If Gwyn had wanted to, he most likely would've been able to seriously injure, if not kill him just then.

His hands dropped to his lap when his hands grew tired, the soft warmth lingering on his finger tips, "..perhaps you should lay down, you look like you"ve fallen asleep already," he mused.

He stifled a sigh, sagging forward a bit more to rub his eyes. "You could be right," he muttered, dropping his hand into his lap.

"Come on then," he leaned forward a bit, fingers touching Jasper only meaning to usher his to lean against him, "I don't bite, I promise."

He cast him a swift suspicious look, but had been wanting to do exactly that already so after another hesitation, leaned against Gwyn.

He moved his hands, resting them against Jasper's chest before running one hands through the man's hair, "-you'll trust me one day, won't you?"

His eyes slowly closed, and one hand rested lightly on Gwyn's knee. "...we'll see," he replied quietly.

He huffed, reaching behind himself he pulled his bag over to support his lower back. His fingers still resting light on his skin, "..I imagine, we will," he sunk into a more comfortable position, warm with Jasper resting against him.

He turned his cheek to rest it against Gwyn's chest. After a long silence, he asked, "Do you already trust me?"

"Not entirely," he admitted, "..no, but I trust you enough," after all, he was still alive.

Jasper's hand, which had been on his belly, reached up and wordlessly squeezed one of Gwyn's hands before dropping back down.

He let a smile on his face, his fingers tightened enough to return the gesture before their two hands seperated again, he was tired himself.

Jasper was slipping into a light sleep, occasionally twitching as his body settled down against Gwyn's welcoming touch.





He didn't know who was coming up those stairs and it made sense he thought the face that would later show it's self would be Jaspers but the transition in his eyes said otherwise, wide and then narrowing as if asking what the man was doing there - he remembered that crooked smile, that smirk. It was the last face he saw before landing face first in a damp alley and a man never forgot the face of the one who had tried to kill him. He only damned Jasper for not using the money he made to live in a place with more places to run and more places to hide because all he had at his disposal were his fists and event in the occassional thrown punches in the passing weeks it was not enough, "Well, well.. the evasive rat lives still," that thick accent, one he could not place filled his ears and on the inside he was frozen, " -- it's too bad, your friend had to pay for his mistake -," those foot steps were getting closer in the shadows of Jasper's apartment and more faces were becoming visible.

There was the sound of shoes clattering against the metal stairs and scraping roughly against the pavement of the landing. The growing group of faces that had gathered on the landing parted, and Jasper was suddenly pushed through into the apartment. He stumbled at the sudden lack of support, gasping for breath through his blood-choked throat. His throat wasn't the only thing covered in blood - the warm liquid was streaming steadily down his face from cuts, and a gash on his belly had clotted against the clothing, the fluid discoloring his black shirt. His arms were bound tightly together behind his back, and one eye had swollen shut.

"Gwyn," the assassin rasped as his eyes adjusted to the dim room, spotting the man he had brought in. "I don't know-" He coughed and spat, his saliva laced with red "-how they found..." His knee buckled, but, after a moment's struggle, he stayed on his feet.

He winced hearing that voice trying to shake it out of his head, there were too many bodies to run and running wasn't an option when his eyes had fallen so casually on Jasper's bloody face. His face twisted in digust leaving Jasper for a moment, "..you disgust me. I might be a rat but you're the s**t on the bottom of my shoe," his face was pale and while his voice never faultered he was radiating fear. These men could kill him before he took a step to run, stepping around the man and passing Jasper (who he was no doubt trying to ignore) and taking a live cigarette from the fingers of one of the strangers in the room, "-- the real problem here is you ******** up, you let me live," he pointed with the fingers now housing the cigarette. He'd struck a nerve, because a hand had successfully wrapped it's self around his throat. Weezing in air, his free hand wrapped around the man's wrist, "- there ain't s**t you can do to make me beg," he choked through a smile, he could see the fire in those eyes.

Jasper watched Gwyn's journey across the room, still spitting up blood as he listened to him talk. However, when the man grabbed Gwyn's throat, his single eye narrowed. He had taken several hard hits from fists, feet, and pavement on his head, which had sent his mind into a haze; this haze made him stupid.

With as much power as he could muster in his condition, he pushed off the ground to slam entire body weight, shoulder first, into the man who had grabbed Gwyn, successfully knocking him off balance. The move had sent himself off balance as well, though, and he went crashing onto the floor with a barely stifled grimace of pain. A moment later, he was kneeing and kicking at the man he had just knocked into.

Nails scratched as his throat as body was seperated from body. He gave a warning glance to the men behind him not to make a move to stop the beating, he took a drag from the cigarette he'd stolen before wrinkling his nose. A few minutes having gone by, he rested his hand on Jasper's shoulder before speaking, "-- Jasper, this isn't your battle," his eyes were closed, fingers running over the torn skin on his neck. He'd have been lying if he said he didn't want to be the one who watched him inhale his last breath, "..you should have never been caught up in it," he tossed a glance to the little group still hovering, watching with their fingers on their weapons.

Jasper flinched in surprise at the touch, then turned still at Gwyn's words. A few seconds later, he twisted onto his back and carefully rolled until he was kneeling upright and sitting on his heels. with His chest was heaving still and his eye, glazed from the pain, was still glinting and ready to fight. "It was my choice to let you live," he muttered to Gwyn. Sense was beginning to slowly sink into his brain again, and his eye flicked over each of the men in the room, trying to gauge what the fight would be like if anything happened. One thing seemed certain, though - neither he, nor Gwyn, stood a chance to live through this night. A miracle would have to occur.

"That doesn't make this your fight," he stated plainly, "..it just means you brought yourself into an unfortunate series of events," he watched the man, who was named Mikhail, fall to the floor with a sick pleasure revealed in his own eyes, "...very unfortunate," he moved to stand over the man, sitting on his chest, "-- and it's very unfortunate for you, Mikhail, because I think you're going to die tonight," he was almost sympathetic, fingers unclipping a gun from the man's waist. His arm stretched out and aimed blindly. Still holding the cigarette, he carelessly put it out against the man's left eye, feeling that body squirm under him, he smirked with a soft satisfaction, "- it doesn't feel good when you're the one begging to stay alive, does it?"

His fingers unclipping a pistol from the man's thigh pointing it blindly at the men guarding that window. His fingers without any warning slid into Jasper's boot fishing for the knife he'd seen him put there so many times before. The man groaned while Gwyn shifted, holding Jasper by one his wrists, he hacked away at the ropes that had not been nearly as thick as the ones he'd been restrained with so many weeks ago, he shoved the knife into the man's hand.

The assassin had squirmed in surprise when Gwyn had fetched his knife, but once those ropes were loose and the knife was firmly in his hand, he carefully rolled his shoulders and flexed his arms, quickly working out their stiffness. He experimentally flipped the knife back and forth in his hand, testing its balance as he shifted into a better fighting stance. With the blade pointing out from his relaxed fist, he slowly turned, pointing its tip at the people in front of him.

Now that Jasper had freedom of movement and a weapon again, he was trying to force himself to be smart and not just leap brashly into something like he had with the other man. If he made any of these men too twitchy, he would be full of bullets before he could say "oops".

His shoe made soft scuffing sound on the ground as he side-stepped towards one of the men, swiftly elbowing him in the neck as he knocked the gun off his waist, sending it skittering across the ground. While the man coughed violently, clutching at his throat, he slipped up behind him and pressed his blade against the man's neck - but didn't deal the death blow. This man was going to be his living meat shield.







((MISSING. Most likely never to be recovered))

When he woke up the sun was casting a shadow of the dead man only feet away, his hand leaving Jasper's back to run the tired out of his eyes. It was only hitting him then that his life had nearly costed the life of the man resting against his middle, groaning and sore from sleeping on the couch, he shift while trying his best not to move too much, his fingers running through Jasper's hair before using his other arm as a pillow. His hand resting on his shoulder for a second he gave it a shake, "Hey, you gonna sleep all day?"

Little did Gwyn know that he had actually been laying awake for the past hour, his eyes resting on the stiffening body on the floor. He had been turning the events over in his mind, slowly and carefully now that he could think mostly clearly - and was also reluctant to leave the comforting embrace of Gwyn's body. At the first signs of movement, he closed this eyes once more, and now simply answered, "No." Jasper carefully pulled himself up so he was sitting, his back now to Gwyn as he ran a hand down his face.

Gwyn leg's folded toward him, sitting 'indian' style on the couch, he ran his fingers through his hair removing the soft tangles. His eyes looking over his back, bruised. He felt like he'd tumble off of the couch at any moment. His hands resting on his knees, "- you slept like a baby, it was comfortable."

He shifted sideways, placing his bare feet on the cold floor, tilting his head to look at Gwyn as he scratched his shoulder. "You... were also really comfortable," he admitted, sounding slightly sheepish of all things. To cover his sheepishness, he glanced down at his own belly to see how the gash was healing - it had clotted well, and looked faintly purple and pink around the edges, but didn't seem to be infected.




((ANOTHER GAP D: ))

(The morning after the two of them had disposed of the body, Jasper was busy unscrewing the panel in the wall when Gwyn woke up.)


His hands ran over his eyes trying to comprehend the noise and run off the feeling of being tired. Pushing himself up, he yawned, "What are you doing?"

"Packing," he replied simply as the last of the tiny screws fell onto the floor with a quiet clink. "We're leaving."

Rubbing his back, "Where to," he asked, slipping bare feet into worn out shoes, "..do you need my help with anything?"

"I don't know yet," he replied quietly to the first question, looking thoughtful. "You can pack as much food into that bag as you can.

"Shouldn't we figure it out before we get everything pacled up?" He quirked a brow, taking the bag and doing what he was told, "..I wonder though, does it matter? How long until we're found again?"

"That's why I want to leave now. It should give us more chances to disappear before they come back." He reached under the coach and pulled out the sniper rifle that had been living in its stuffing, then set to dismantling it.

Leaning against the counter, hands holding his chin, "...you're always pulling out new toys, what else have you hidden in these walls," he asked, in half admiration.

Looking as pleased as Jasper ever looked (which wasn't a lot for a normal person), he pointed at the wall. "There's a spare pistol in there."

His eyes followed the gesture, there was something to be said for everything that Gwyn did and did not know about Jasper, he stood, pulling the bag he's filled to the counter, "We could move closer to the city, they wouldn't try anything too risque there."

"I was thinking the same." He finished dismantling the rifle and now put the pieces into the duffle bag. "Do you know a lot about it?"