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meabd · 4 years ago

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Tricks of the Trade

Chapter 3: Casting the Net

New Directive;

Recruit Codename Lily at all cost. Hold on Qixing Bang & Burn until further notice.

Funds available, find her Nugget. If needed Raven Operative available for backup.

Do not reply.

Childe crumpled the note up before tossing it into the roaring fire. He bristled at the mention of bringing in a Raven. Sure, he knew it was mostly to spare someone of his ranking from the normally distasteful task… but he really didn’t find it that distasteful in this instance.

[Y/n] was obviously a covert operative of some kind. He was relatively sure of your allegiances, and of your reasons, but nothing was ever certain in the cloak and dagger world of espionage. Childe had minimal contact with the Intelligence division of the Fatui. The Harbingers, as a rule, did not work in the shadows. Their title, their prestige was just as much a weapon as the ones they carried in their hands.

That being said, he’d be an idiot to let an opportunity like this one pass him by. You were obviously in over your head if that laughable excuse for a cover you used the night the two of you had met was anything to go by. He felt bad for you; he knew what it was like to have family held against you. Which, he was loathed to admit, really kind of left a sour taste in his mouth if he thought on his deception for too long.

He’d promised you asylum, but knew that he couldn’t guarantee your safety. He assured you that the Fatui could help, but knew they’d only grant amnesty if you turned (which would more likely than not put you in even more danger than you were already in). He couldn’t shake the image of your hysterics from the night before. The way you had crumpled in front of your friend, how you’d nearly gotten yourself killed when you reached for the body. Zhongli had confirmed the poison; it was all over the girl’s hands, smudged on her stomach and thighs, anywhere she’d touched the frame was covered in the deadly poison.

He recalled vividly the way your fingers trembled as you moved to take the girl’s hand. How very, very close you were to the same fate. If he were being honest seeing your reaction in that moment is what had confirmed your innocence to him. You’d looked utterly broken , and he was more than a little impressed with how you pulled yourself together. Childe had pulled aside several of the dancers to ask about your relationship with the dead girl.

“Ming was like a sister to her. She’s only been with the company for a year but… well she didn’t have any family,” one girl said to him. “[Y/n] looks out for all of us, but she’s especially protective of us if we have no one else,” she’d continued, and Childe could tell from her inflection she was in a similar position.

“And [y/n] was with the dancers the entire time?” Childe pressed the girl, who’s look of sadness morphed quickly into one of anger.

“The whole time,” she confirmed with a hard glare.

All the other dancers had similar opinions; [y/n] was kind, a hard worker, you gave more of yourself to the dance company than anyone ever expected. More than that, you was a friend to each and every one of them. Childe wanted to be suspicious of your intentions—friendliness is essential to information gathering—but then he’d recall the feel of your slim shoulders shuddering violently under his hands as sobs wracked your body. You weren’t a good enough actress to fake that.

Childe was on his way to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor to speak to Zhongli. He was hoping to find out more about the poison that had done the poor thing in. On his arrival he found not Zhongli tending to the body, but you . All his suspicions came rushing back.

“What are you doing?” Childe’s voice startled you so badly you dropped the rag in your hand. You whipped around to face him and—oh you looked like shit . You were still wearing the formal gown from the night before, your hair was a limp mess and there were dark circles under your red-rimmed eyes. It was very obvious you hadn’t slept at all.

“She doesn’t have anyone else,” you sighed, bending over to retrieve the rag you’d dropped. Childe noticed then that your hands were gloved (thank Archons).

“I… don’t understand. Why are you here?” He wasn’t familiar with Liyue funeral customs, but was fairly certain you shouldn’t be the one preparing her body.

“Someone had to wash and dress her,” you returned to your task and Childe approached cautiously, gaze lingering on the face of the dead girl. “And… I’m the—I… I need to do it. That’s all,” you stumbled over your words, voice thick with unshed tears.

"You seriously didn't even change clothes? [y/n] I didn't drop you off at your front door for nothing. It's dangerous for you to be out by yourself." Childe tried to reign in his frustration, but was doing a poor job of it.

"I was her friend. Whoever she really was doesn't matter. I owe her this," your voice was solid, but the Harbinger saw the tremor in your hands.

“It’s not your fault,” Childe reached out to touch your arm, but thought better of the contact when he saw how you flinched away from him.

“Not my fault?” You laughed, and it was a terrible, hollow sound. “I think you and I both know that to be false,” you paused to dip the cloth in a nearby bowl of sweetly scented oil. Childe frowned but did not refute your statement.

“Then what was she doing in that room? Why was she removing the painting? [Y/n], she was an Agent,” his voice was soothing, but the facts were undeniable. He’d yet to uncover the girl’s true identity or the Country she worked for, but the scene was incriminating enough on its own.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” you snarled. Childe took a step back, hands up to show he meant no harm.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for your loss and I’m sorry for that girl but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re looking at yourself. Your future, if you continue with this.” The eyes that met his were full of grief. He regretted saying anything.

“Please just leave me alone,” you implored. Childe shook his head.

“You know I can’t do that, [y/n].”

“Then leave me alone for now. Let me ease my friend’s crossing. Just give me that much,” Childe’s gaze was drawn back to the corpse on the table. Her hair had been brushed back and her face was peaceful enough that she could have been sleeping. He wondered for a moment if it was Zhongli or you who had sewn her eyes shut with such finesse.

“Okay,” he agreed, taking a business card from his coat pocket. “My address is here. I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay by yourself,” Childe dropped the card on the table by the door as he made his exit, hoping you’d take his words to heart. On the way out, he saw a flash of gold rounding the corner of the street.

“Zhongli!” Childe yelled, rushing to catch up to the elusive Consultant. He turned the corner a little too quickly and nearly ran into the older man.

“Childe,” he looked only mildly surprised. “What are you doing here?” The Harbinger shrugged, not having a great answer that did not involve you. “Would you like to come back to the Parlor with me for some tea? [Y/n] has been holding vigil, I am sure she would appreciate the company.”

“No thank you. I have other business to attend to,” Zhongli nodded in understanding. “Actually, I was looking for you—do you know what the poison was exactly?” Golden eyes narrowed and Childe could not tell if he was annoyed or confused.

“It was Archon’s Trumpet oil,” he finally answered, his expression carefully neutral. “Childe, I have nothing but respect for you, but you must understand my professional and personal position in this matter; please refrain from involving yourself.” Childe frowned, he’d never heard Zhongli use such a stern voice before.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said, trying to nudge a clarification out of the man.

“Professionally it is highly unorthodox for a foreigner to involve himself in the sacred rites of burial—” Zhongli lifted on hand to stall Childe’s protestation, “ personally I care a great deal for [y/n]. I have no issue with you pursuing her but this is a difficult time, your discretion would be appreciated.” Childe felt like he’d just been scolded by a schoolmaster. He nodded.

“My apologies, Master Zhongli,” Childe used the honorific he’d long since abandoned.

“Think nothing of it,” the Consultant smiled at him. “Now if you would excuse me, I have some flowers to source.” The two men said their goodbyes and went their separate ways: Zhongli to the market and Childe to his townhome. Normally he would offer to accompany the man (considering his penchant for forgetting his wallet) but he had far too much to think on that afternoon to be out in public and distracted.

It was late that evening when Childe heard a knock at the door. He wondered—briefly—who it could be, though he could make an educated guess.

“Hello?” Your muffled voice called out.

“Coming, coming,” he yelled in reply, tugging on a soft pair of drawstring pants. He opened the door for you, lips pursed as he took in your appearance. He didn’t know it was possible, but you somehow looked worse than you had that morning; you still had not changed clothes, and though your face was scrubbed clean of your smeared makeup it only highlighted the hollowness of your cheeks and dark circles under your eyes.

“...Well are you going to let me in?” Childe stepped out of your way, gesturing towards the living area.

“I didn’t—”

“Think I would come? Yeah I’ve heard that one before,” you sighed, leaning against the wall of the entryway to steady yourself as you removed your heels. “I wasn’t planning on it, honestly, but someone tripped the wire in my apartment,” he raised one brow in askance.

“You rigged a bomb in your apartment?”

“No, like literally tripped a wire; it’s really more like a thin string across the threshold of my front door. If it’s there, I’m safe, if it’s not, time to run,” you explained. Maybe Childe had underestimated you.

“...um, okay,” he started, trailing after you into the living room.

“Do you mind if I use your shower? And maybe borrow some clothes? I’m sure you haven’t noticed but I’m a little worse for wear.” There was the barest hint of humor in your tone; the Harbinger could recognize an olive branch when it was offered and he readily agreed.

“Bathroom’s down the hall on the left. I’ll leave some clothes by the door,” you nodded once before heading in the direction he’d pointed. Childe watched you go, ears at attention in case you decided to go wandering.

But that was stupid, you had to be desperate if you were actually here and there was no way you’d be ballsy enough to try something in the home of a Harbinger of all people. Shaking himself from his thoughts, Childe made his way to the bedroom and began to rifle through his clothes. There was nothing that would fit you, so he wouldn’t even try; the best he could hope for was something that wouldn’t be actively falling off.

His fingers closed around a cotton sleep shirt, long enough that it would probably be a dress on you. Regardless, he also fished out the smallest drawstring pants he could find; he felt it would be a little presumptuous to give you something so provocative to wear, especially considering how uncomfortable you probably already were.

Folding the garments carefully he left them on the floor outside the bathroom door. He headed towards the kitchen, intending to rustle up some food, but sighed when he was confronted with an empty pantry. He’d forgotten to go to the market.

With a groan he shrugged on a light jacket and headed out the door. There, at the end of the hall, was a Fatui agent. He motioned for the boy to approach.

“Ah, y-yes, Tartaglia, uh, sir!” He stammered and Child bit back a laugh.

“Go to Wanmin Restaurant and get two orders of Jueyun Chili Chicken. Tell them to put it on my tab.” The boy nodded once before turning towards the stair (nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste). Satisfied to have arranged a dinner, Childe returned to his quarters where he poured himself a drink and picked up a book to wait. Or, well, arranged himself on the couch to appear as if he wasn’t waiting was more like it.

It was nearly 45 minutes before he finally heard the telltale sign of the bathroom door creaking open as you grabbed the clothes from the hallway. The food had arrived some time ago and Childe was beginning to worry it would be cold by the time you’d finally emerged. He’d grown up with sisters, so he was acquainted with the female proclivity towards bathroom hogging—but he also had many sisters, so the hogging was usually kept to a minimum.

“That smells good,” you spoke, startling the Harbinger from his thoughts. Archons you were a quiet little thing.

“Leave any water for the fish?” He ribbed, not looking over as you made your way around the couch.

“Oh, no, was I supposed to?” You volleyed back, sinking into the cushion next to him with a sigh. You practically swam in his clothing. With your wet hair dripping down the fabric of his shirt and the pant cuffs rolled up the way they were you looked painfully innocent. Childe thought he preferred this look, as lovely as you were in the gown.

“So, dinner—” The Harbinger rose from his seat just as you sat down, eliciting a raised eyebrow from you. Had to nip that line of thought in the bud, after all. He snagged two plates and another glass and set the table, depositing the wine bottle in the center.

“Don’t you have any chopsticks?” You asked as you watched him dig through his cutlery.

“Of course not, you’ve seen me try and eat with the damned things. I’d starve to death!” He joked, smiling at the quiet chuckle that was his reward.

“You’re going to tell your superiors that I’m here, aren’t you?” The pivot in topic was sudden and Childe found all he could do was shrug.

“You know how this works,” he answered, filling your glass. “You don’t have to worry about the Fatui here. I’m the highest ranked field agent in Liyue, no one will lay a hand on you,” he assured. You did not look comforted.

“Unless you had anything to do with Ming’s death I don’t think it’s the Fatui I have to worry about,” you sipped at your wine.

“It wasn’t us,” he propped his chin up, one elbow on the table. “And if it wasn’t us and it wasn’t you , then that leaves the Guoanbu, the DGSE, the Knights of Favonius and the Kōanchōsa-chō as the most likely suspects,” he rattled of the intelligence agencies of Liyue, Fontaine, Mondstadt and Inazuma respectively.

“Do you know who she was working for?” You asked, Childe shook his head.

“Currently under investigation. It would help us narrow down the list, that’s for sure, but no—I’m as much in the dark as you are,” you looked disappointed at that answer.

“I don’t think it was the DGSE. I would know if there was another Agent operating out of the Harbor,” you mused, unintentionally confirming your association with Fontaine. Your poor training was honestly starting to concern him, how had you even stayed alive this long?

“Then that leaves the Guoanbu, the Knights and Kōanchōsa-chō,” he mused, spearing a hunk of chicken with his fork.

“I only know of three Inazuman Agents here, but that might have changed… Regardless, I think it was the Guoanbu.”

“And what makes you say that?” Childe inquired, trying to suss out or line of thinking. You shrugged.

“Instinct, really. I just have a feeling. I’ve learned to rely on instinct these past few years, it’s usually the only thing between me and an early grave,” Childe wanted to beat your Handler within an inch of their life.

“That… I’m pretty sure that’s not how espionage is supposed to work,” he deadpanned.

“Oh come off it, Bagman.” Childe choked on his chicken.

“Firstly, fuck you very much; secondly, I’ll have you know I don’t just bribe people.” The amused smile that formed on your lips was the most sincere expression of happiness he’d seen since the banquet.

“Then how would you describe your line of work?” You leaned across the table to nab the bottle of wine.

“I’m—uh-uh, nope, I’m not the amateur here, you won’t get me that easily,” he shot back, pushing his own glass forward for a refill as well.

The two of you shared a laugh, one that perhaps veered a little too close to hysterics, but a laugh nonetheless. As the chuckles died out a serious look came upon your face.

“This is kinda fucked up, huh?” Your remark was quiet, subdued.

“I don’t follow,” Childe replied.

“This—us—it’s not normal. I’m not eating dinner with you because you like me, I’m eating dinner with you because someone high up in your government wants to turn me traitor,” your smile had turned melancholic.

“That’s not entirely true,” he corrected. “You are here because I like you. If I didn’t you’d already be on a boat to a Snezhnyan Gulag.” That… wasn’t technically the truth. He may have suggested trying to turn you, but it’s not as if he had to fight hard for it. You blanched.

“Thank you, that’s very comforting,” the snark in your voice did nothing to cover the fear in your eyes.

“It wasn’t meant to be. Have you given any thought to my offer?” Childe stacked your empty plates before depositing them in the sink.

“Haven’t had much time to,” you replied honestly. He grabbed the half empty bottle and made his way to the living area. No need for difficult conversations to take place on uncomfortable chairs after all.

“You know I’ll need an answer eventually, right?” He sank into the couch. You shrugged, not following him.

“What happens if I say no?” Standing there, glass in hand, eyes locked on his, swimming in those borrowed clothes… Childe wanted to lie, but could not bear to.

“Nothing good,” the silence between you was heavy. You gave a single, short nod of understanding before sitting sideways on the couch, your legs thrown over Childe’s own. He was surprised, but hid it well.

“Then do I really have a choice?” You pondered aloud. The Harbinger didn’t think you were looking for an answer, but gave one anyway.

“You always have a choice. They’re just not always equal choices,” he traced the vein on the inside of your wrist with a featherlight touch, pretending not to notice the way it made you shiver.

Report;

Agent Pisces believes me to be DGSE. Please supply corresponding Pocket Litter to Ferryman drop.

Boarding with Pieces, cease all direct drop contact immediately. Brush Passes in the flowers still clean, will debrief after Opera.

Swallow

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe x reader #flirty childe #childe #tartaglia #my fics #my writinng #tricks of the trade #chapter three #series #WIP #genshin impact

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meabd · 4 years ago

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Tricks of the Trade

Chapter 2: A Complicated Dance

It was nearly five o’clock when you approached the Heyu Teahouse. As you neared the entrance you caught sight of the slender form of the Eleventh Harbinger as he leaned against the side of the building, arms crossed, a look of concentration on his face. He startled as you stepped into view, his expression morphing into one of surprised pleasure.

“[Y/n], you look ravishing ,” he winked, offering you his elbow. You bowed instead, ignoring the gesture.

“Thank you, Tartaglia ,” he rolled his eyes at the use of his code name.

“None of that now. Call me Childe,” it was your turn to roll your eyes as he ushered you through the front door, one hand at the small of your back to direct you. The hostess was deferential to the young man, guiding you quickly to a private chamber on the second floor. The view over the harbor was breathtaking, and you found yourself distracted by it as Childe ordered for you both.

“You know, if we’re being honest I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” his comment broke you away from your thoughts, though you did not turn to acknowledge it.

“It’s funny,” you mused, eyes trained on the setting sun, “for as long as I have lived here I still haven’t gotten used to the beauty of it all,” he hummed in reply. Finally you turn to look at him, your gaze flickering over his formal Snezhnyan suit. He had no business looking as good as he did. “Why did you really ask me out this evening?” He cocked his head, his lips quirking into a bemused grin.

“Because you’re a beautiful woman with impressive connections with the highest powers operating out of Liyue Harbor,” his voice was matter of fact. The waitress returned with the bottle of wine he’d requested, pouring two glasses and bustling away.

“I’m not an idiot, you know,” you murmured, swirling the wine in your glass as you waited for him to taste it first.

“And I never said you were,” he countered, taking a healthy gulp of his own wine. “So who do you work for?” You took a small sip from your glass before answering.

“Lady Keqing oversees my work for—”

“I would appreciate it if you did not insult my intelligence,” he cut you off.

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you sniffed primly. The charming smile had not slipped from his face, but there was a newfound tension around his eyes.

“Come on Miss [y/n], whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in it’s nothing the Fatui can’t handle. I’m sure we can, what is it you said? ‘Come to an equitable agreement’?” His smile was soft and comforting—and entirely false.

“Just what is it you’re implying, Master Childe?” You weren’t sure exactly what it was he thought you were, but you were glad to hear he wasn’t either.

“[Y/n], hails from Wuwang Hill, father deceased, mother deceased, brother jailed for petty crimes in Fontaine—is that who it is? Your brother is being held hostage and Fontaine's struck a deal with you?” Your mouth hung open, an expression of sincere shock. Childe leaned back, hands behind his head to enjoy the fruits of his detective work.

Little did he know, your shock was not because he was right, but rather that he actually bought your Cover. Sure, [y/n] was your real name, but it was also the name of a little girl who’d gone missing during the Wuwang Hill landslide. A little bureaucratic magic was all it took to assume her identity.

“It’s okay,” his expression softened as he leaned forward again, laying one hand atop your own, “I know what it is to care for family. You would do terrible things to keep them safe…” his voice trailed off as if he were remembering his own misdeeds. “I want to help you,” his voice was earnest. He was a damn good actor.

“I… appreciate the offer,” you gulped, attempting to tug your hand away to no avail.

“...But?” he pressed you.

“But they’d kill me,” and that part wasn’t a lie.

“Snezhnya is a formidable country. We have ways of helping… people like you,” he squeezed your hand in what you assumed was supposed to be a comforting gesture. It felt claustrophobic.

“I don’t know,” you bit your lip, dropping your chin a scant inch so you could look up at him through your mascara thickened lashes. “I couldn’t possibly give you an answer right now,” he nodded, withdrawing his hand.

“I understand, of course. Take some time to think about it. The Tsaritsa is a strong Archon, you would be safe within our ranks,” you pursed your lips, hoping the tension in your face read as nervousness and not amusement. A silence fell between the two of you, though not one as uncomfortable as before. When the server arrived with your food, all seriousness bled away from Childe’s face as he thanked the young woman before refilled your wine glass.

The conversation shifted as the two enjoyed your meal. You weren’t completely at ease, but that was nothing special; you never were. Childe, having gotten his ‘proposal’ out of the way was a regular chatterbox. It was really quite impressive how much he said without revealing anything of substance.

He was a charming man, that was doubtless; his conversation skills were remarkable, he was an active listener, and his flirtations (though inappropriate, in your opinion) managed to steer clear of any touchy territory. He was beautiful, to say the least, with striking eyes and a well formed figure that would send any woman’s heart aflutter. He was the perfect Honey Trap.

But then again… so were you.

“This has been lovely, thank you,” you smiled at him with a bit more honesty than was advisable.

“Why does that sound like a goodbye?” He stepped closer into your space, his fingers grazing the delicate bone of your wrist.

“Because it is? I have to go to Master Shizhuong’s,” you backed away from him.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” he cajoled, “come take a walk with me, we could revisit that tree,” his eyebrows twitched up at the suggestive remark.

“No, thank you. Perhaps next time. I’m going to be late as it is,” you turned to leave but were halted by a hand on your elbow.

“When I asked you out tonight I didn’t just mean to dinner, [y/n].”

“That’s all well and good Master Childe, but I do have work to do. Now if you’ll excuse me—” he yanked you forward, pressing his body against yours. His lips brushed the shell of your ear and you shuddered to feel his warm breath against it.

“You don’t honestly think I’d let you out of my sight now , do you? That banquet doesn’t start for another hour at least,” there was a threat in those words, no matter how soft the tone was. You pulled back from him, shifting your features into what you hoped was a neutral expression.

“...I’m the dance coordinator. There’s a Yayue performance before the feast, I have to be there for the arrangement.” Childe’s smile was contrite and his grip on you loosened.

“Sorry, sorry, just being cautious you know,” he laughed. You huffed an incredulous sigh.

“Come on, ‘you don’t honestly think’ I’d run off to wreak havoc at a banquet immediately after your oh so considerate offer,” you tossed his turn of phrase back at him and he frowned.

“I would certainly hope not,” he brushed a stray curl out of your eyes. “See you there, then? That is if you have time for me,” he winked. Despite your better judgement you nodded your assent before making your way to the estate.

As you approached the back entrance to the mansion you let your fingers trace over the wood of the exterior until you found the right panel. As quickly and discreetly as you could manage you lifted it off its hinges and swapped the bottle that was inside with the note you’d had strapped to your upper thigh. You took a moment to lean against the building, one hand pressed against your chest. You took several deep breaths before straightening your qipao and heading inside. To any wayward onlooker it would seem as if you were merely collecting yourself. If who you thought was tailing you actually was, then you’d just solidified your cover as an indecisive and reluctant operative.

Inside the mansion you passed the dancer’s dressing room to enter Master Shizhuong’s private chambers. You removed the bottle from your bodice, dripping its contents onto the bottom edge of an ornately framed painting. Behind it lay the Master’s safe, containing valuable and important documents. Documents that you had on good authority were to be stolen by a Fontainèse spy that very evening.

You re-corked the bottle and returned to the dressing area, satisfied with your work. Launching into your Cover role you helped apply traditional makeup, tied ribbons, tightened bodices and arranged hair as the dancers gossiped amongst themselves. Ming, one of the youngest dancers of your ranks, sat quietly in the corner. You approached her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Are you alright there?” You inquired. Her large doe eyes met yours and you could see the fear in them. She nodded.

“Are you… will you still help me tonight?”

Ming had come to you the week before with a sob story about needing money to help her sick mother. She shared with you her (rather convoluted) plan to bed Master Shizhuong, then blackmail him into providing her with the necessary funds. She’d asked for your help, imploring you to distract the middle-aged politician long enough for her to ‘prepare herself’ in his chambers.

You had, of course, readily agreed. You would never turn down a chance to take out an enemy operative. You almost felt bad—almost because, frankly she just wasn’t very good at her job. Her Cover was flimsy at best and her true intention—stealing classified documents from your host—was laughably easy to suss out. You smiled gently at the girl, a warm and comforting expression.

“Of course Ming. Anything for you. Please be safe,” you hugged the younger woman and felt her tears on your neck.

“No crying now,” you murmured, wiping a tear off of her cheek. “You’ll smear your makeup. Be strong; think of your mother and be strong ,” Ming’s smile was watery, but she nodded.

This is entirely too easy .

The entertainment had gone off without a hitch (because of course it had, you were damned good at your job) and you were engaging the Master of the house in a spirited discussion on the merits of the use of Cor Lapis in the production of chopsticks. You noticed your host’s eyes drifting over to the clock and you ran your finger down the seam of his sleeve, a coy gesture. Just as you were about to switch topics you felt a hand on your back.

“If I may be so bold, I believe Noctilucous Jade to be the superior material,” Zhongli’s smooth voice cut in and you inwardly groaned.

“Yes, yes, right as always Master Zhongli,” Shizhuong nodded with enthusiasm. “But—ah, excuse me please, I’m afraid I have an urgent matter to attend to,” he bowed before beating a hasty retreat. You hoped you stalled him for long enough for the poison to take effect. You’d be very disappointed if Ming lived long enough to get any of it on your host. You actually quite liked him.

“Hello Uncle,” you smiled pleasantly, using the honorific you reserved for when he was getting on your nerves. Zhongli’s head cocked to the side.

“My my, you’re in a mood, aren’t you? I take it your sortie with our resident Harbinger was not to your liking?” You blanched.

“I—you—he told you?” Zhongli chuckled.

“Bragged about it is more like it,” Childe’s voice came from behind you as an arm snaked its way around your waist. You fought hard against your instinct to flinch away. Zhongli inclined his head in greeting and Childe returned the gesture. “And I thought we had a lot of fun, didn’t we [y/n]?” You knew you were blushing but didn’t bother to fight it.

“Yes, ah, it was quite enjoyable,” your voice wavered just the slightest. Enough so that Childe’s grip on your waist tightened a bit.

“I must admit, I did not see this particular turn of events,” Zhongli remarked, his golden eyes lingering on the fingers tapping against your hip bone. “[Y/n] has never been out with a man, not once in the five years I’ve known her.”

“Maybe I was waiting for the right one,” you grit out from your teeth clenching smile.

“ Ming !” Master Shizhuong’s startled cry was muffled, but audible. The three of you turned in unison to stare at the hallway leading to the dressing rooms.

“Ming… no ,” you gasped, attempting to break away from Childe.

“Hold on—” he started but you pushed him away.

“Ming is one of my girls, I have to— I—” you shook your head before running towards the sound of the shout. You flung open the dressing room door, stopping only for a moment. You knew Zhongli and Childe were following you and you had to make a show of searching.

“Ming!” You screamed, continuing down the hall, throwing doors open as you went. Finally you made it to the master bedroom, your hands flying up to cover your mouth as a strangled sob escaped. You sagged against the door frame, making sure to hold your position until your companions had caught up. In the bedroom Ming laid slumped against the wall, dressed in nothing but her undergarments. The picture frame had been moved and the wall safe was clearly visible. Master Shizhuong sat on the bed, head in his hands.

“Oh no, no what did they do to you?” You stumbled into the room, dropping to your knees in front of her body. You reached out, hands shaking, as if to touch her, but felt yourself being yanked away.

“Don’t,” Childe’s voice was tight. “She may have been poisoned. Don’t touch anything ,” he barked. You felt your breath hitch as tears came to your eyes. These, at least, were more genuine than the one’s Childe had previously called you on. You liked Ming, you really did—she reminded you of yourself when you first started out.

You let that kernel of truth slip through your mask as you sobbed in Childe’s arms. He ran a soothing hand through your hair, pressing your face into the crook of his neck so you couldn’t look at her corpse.

“Shh. It’s okay,” he whispered. “Zhongli, can you handle this?” He must have nodded since you found yourself being tugged to your feet.

“No. I have to—I have to help her,” you protested softly. Childe shushed you again and led you from the room. “That could have been me,” you whispered, your voice hollow.

“It could have,” your companion agreed, though not unkindly. You allowed yourself to be dragged into the adjoining study. Gentle hands prodded you into an overstuffed chair and Childe knelt on the ground in front of you.

“I’m sorry [y/n], but I have to ask—did you have anything to do with this?” You tried to breathe in but the air stuck in your throat. Wordlessly you shook your head, tears still streaming down your face. You were certain your makeup was a disaster and you regretted your choice in mascara.

“Alright. Okay. Stay here. Zhongli and I will handle the rest,” he soothed, moving to stand.

“No,” you choked out, standing as well. “No, I have twenty nine other girls out there that need me,” you sniffled, wiping away the moisture on your cheeks. Childe stared at you, his face unreadable.

“Fine. But wait for me. You’ll need an escort home tonight,” you didn‘t argue. He turned to leave and you reached out without thinking. He stilled, looking down at your joined hands.

“I’m sorry. I… thank you,” you startled at the soft brush of lips against your forehead. He said nothing in reply, sweeping out of the room in a hurry.

Report;

Things have progressed well with Agent Pisces. Target believes me to be operating under duress and has made overtures to turn me. Agent Swan has been eliminated, Millelith on high alert. Will proceed with caution.

Dead Drop at Blue House compromised, Sanitized documents have been left there, please convey a new rendez-vous point ASAP.

Operation Blowback Intercept on hold until further notice.

I await further instructions.

Swallow

#my fic #my wriing #series #tricks of the trade #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact head cannons #childe #tartaglia #flirty childe #reader insert #fan fiction #espionage #spy games #chapter two #childe x reader

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meabd · 4 years ago

Text

Tricks of the Trade

Chapter 1: Just a Little Murder

You vaulted over the high rail of the pavilion, feeling the jerk of wind catching your glider. There was a commotion behind you as the guards yelled to each other from their posts. You knew you wouldn’t have long, so you had to make the most of the head start you got. As you neared the closely pack buildings of the harbor you withdrew your wings, catching yourself on the edge of a pagoda roof. You fell the last ten or so feet to the ground, cushioning your drop with a side roll.

Hastily, you stood. With one hand you ripped off your mask, the other loosening the pins that held your hair. It tumbled down your back in soft waves and you fluffed it out. You stripped out of your black jacket, leaving yourself in only a thin silk undershirt and your shorts. You tied the jacket around your waist, hoping that in the darkness it would be mistaken for a skirt. Satisfied with your disguise, you peeked out of the alleyway. The yelling was getting closer. Across the way stood a lone man, about your age, perhaps a bit older, under the old tree near the fountain center. His face was upturned, and the moonlight bathed his form in shades of blue and grey. You sprinted to him.

“I need your help,” you were out of breath. The man startled at your presence, eyes wide.

“Ah, are you okay, miss?” You shushed him, backing further into the shadow of the great tree, your hand gripping his wrist tightly. He frowned, but did not fight as you pulled him along. Over his shoulder you spied the first of the guards entering the open area near the fountain. Without a moment's hesitation you yanked the young man forward by the collar of his jacket, slamming him against you in a bruising kiss. He reached out with both hands, bracing himself against the tree so he didn’t over balance.

He made a startled sound in the back of his throat, and you felt your heart skip a beat as he lowered one hand— this was it… he’s going to push you away and the jig is up . When you felt the slight pressure on your waist as he leaned into the kiss you whimpered in your relief, melting into him.

“Hey, you there!” One of the Millelith guards barked, and the young man pulled away just enough to glance over his shoulder. “You see a man in a black mask come through here?” The young man snorted.

“No, we haven’t. Now if you excuse us,” he let the hand at your waist wrap around your back as he walked you both back in the direction of the financial district; he was careful to keep his body between you and the guards. You held your breath as you walked together, leaning into this odd young man and trying your best to modulate your breathing. When the two of you reached the stairs to Northland Bank he tugged you into an alcove just under them.

“So, wanna tell me what that was about, girlie?” He did not let go of you and you began to worry. Had you just traded one danger for another? You gulped, eyes wide as you stared up at him. The silence was deafening.

“I…” you began, an idea coalescing in your mind. “I’m so sorry,” you let your voice hitch as tears welled in your eyes. “My husband, he—I had to run, he—” sob escaped you as you buried your face in your hands. For a very long moment the young man said nothing. Just as you were beginning to think your plan had worked he started laughing !

“Okay, okay, I don’t need to know just stop with the crocodile tears, alright?” Your hands fell away from your face and you frowned up at him. You found yourself in a position rarely occupied by your sort; you had no idea what to do.

“Listen,” you began, but stopped when he held a hand up.

“Nope. No. No thank you, I’ll mind my own business and be on my way,” he put a bit of distance between the two of you then paused mid-turn. “One for the road?” You frowned, but before you could vocalize a protest you found his lips on yours again, one hand on your neck to gently tilt your head up, the other sliding down your bare arm in a caress that was entirely too sensual for how chaste it was.

As suddenly as the kiss began it was over, and he tossed a cheeky wink your way before disappearing into the frigid Liyue night.

______________________________________________________________

It was a beautiful day in Liyue Harbor, and you had the great pleasure of spending it with the peerless consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. The sun was high and hot as the two of you sat, side by side, sipping tea and observing the goings-on of the people below.

“There was a lot of commotion at the Parlor today, thank you for making time to come out with me,” you smiled at him.

“Not at all [y/n]. The best time for tea with a friend is when the mundane threatens to overcome you,” he nodded sagely.

“What is going on, Master Zhongli?” You asked, the very portrait of innocence.

“Terrible business my dear. That young upstart merchant from Inazuma passed in his sleep. Horrible tragedy, that, for someone with so much life left to live,” Zhongli’s smile was restrained, his obvious sympathy for the man evident. You restrained your own smile, forcing a look of compassion over your features.

“That’s awful! What happened to him, if you don’t mind my asking?” The consultant looked pensive for a moment before answering.

“I haven’t the faintest idea, truth be told. I’ve been quite busy with sourcing the Inazuman Incense for the rite tomorrow,” you breathed deeply through your nose as you sipped your tea, trying very hard not to look put out. Zhongli was a very valuable asset… most of the time. His single-mindedness unfortunately came with the territory; for every sliver of useful information you eked out of him a torrent of miscellaneous and unrelated business came with it.

“Of course, I understand. When is the rite?” He opened his mouth to speak, but a flash of recognition came to his eyes. Curious, you followed his gaze over to where a tall, slim man dressed in grey and red was waving. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the young man from the night before. You felt an uncharacteristic surge of panic as his eyes landed on you and his smile widened.

As he got closer you noticed the vision on his hip and the mask askew on his head. Tartaglia; the eleventh Harbinger , your mind helpfully supplied, immediately turning your thoughts to the dossier you’d received on the Tsaritza’s highest agents. He was… much younger than you’d expected. And you’d kissed him. You kissed an enemy agent. And what’s worse you’d done it as a distraction, and he knew there was something fishy about it. You wanted to groan. You wanted to bury your face in your hands and disappear under the table.

“Childe, good afternoon. Why don’t you join us?” Zhongli’s expression was fond.

“I’d be happy to!” He laughed, a clear, sincere chuckle. He slid easily into the seat in front of you. “And who might you be?” He leaned forward on the table, elbows propped on the fine silk of the tablecloth. You raised a brow at his behavior. He wouldn’t out you now (most likely) since that would cause trouble for him too… but that didn’t mean that you were safe.

“I am [y/n],” you nodded your head demurely in acknowledgement.

“[Y/n]? How interesting, you’re not from Liyue then are you?” His grin was at once flirtatious and predatory and you wondered how Zhongli did not notice. When you did not respond to his dig he turned to the older man, “It’s good to see you out with someone other than me—or a corpse! I didn’t know you had friends,” he slapped Zhongli’s shoulder, a friendly gesture.

“You wound me, Childe. I am sitting here with two of my closest friends, now aren’t I?” He did not rise to the bait (or didn’t realize that it was bait—you could never tell with him). “I will go and order, your usual?”

“Yes please!”

“Yes, thank you.” Both you and Childe answered in unison. You turned to look at each other, him with an expression of interest, you with one of surprise. Zhongli grinned ( grinned! He never does that! ) and made his way over to the door.

“And how long have you known our esteemed Master Zhongli?” Childe asked you as he leaned back in his seat. His lazy posture and relaxed expression did nothing to hide the glint of suspicion in his blue eyes.

“A number of years now,” you answered vaguely. “How did the two of you meet?” You counter his question with one of your own.

“Funny story actually, he’d forgotten his wallet and I offered to pay for him—the rest is history!” That was Zhongli through and through , you mused.

“How very kind of you,” you smiled at him, showing a little too much teeth.

“It will be ready shortly,” Zhongli thankfully interrupted the tense conversation. He deposited the extra teacup beside your pot as he sat back down next to you (which, perhaps immaturely, you counted as a victory.)

“Good, I’m starving,” the Harbinger grinned as he helped himself to the tea.

Faster than you’ve ever seen service, dish after dish was brought out to your shared table, enough that you were concerned for the structural stability of the poor thing. The Harbinger stifled a laugh at the look on your face.

“I tip really well,” he winked at you, that same Archon’s damned cheeky wink he’d tossed you the night before.

There, in the quiet of the evening and with adrenaline pulsing through your veins you’d somewhat enjoyed it, thought him charming ! You couldn’t believe you hadn’t put two and two together then, how you hadn’t recognized him… especially when a gaff such as this could mean death in your line of work.

“You mustn't let Childe’s… quirks bother you,” Zhongli leaned over to nab a piece of Childe’s sweet and salty pork, misreading your expression as one of insult.

“Oh come on Zhongli, she’s fine. Just having a bit of fun, aren't we [y/n]?” He shook a lock of reddish brown hair out of his eyes and grinned in a roguish manner. If he weren’t one of the highest ranked agents for a government actively seeking out the extermination of your head of state you might have thought him handsome. As it was, you only saw the threat in his actions.

“Of course, sir.” Your overly formal language gave him pause, though it didn’t seem to phase Zhongli at all.

“That is good to hear; I had been wanting to introduce the two of you for a while now,” the older man smiled at you both. “[Y/n], Childe here has developed a great appreciation for Liyue cuisine and culture, and I know you are the preeminent expert on many classical arts,” you grit your teeth behind the tight smile you gave. Childe looked at you with one brow raised in askance.

“Master Zhongli is too kind; I am merely a cultural consultant,” you bowed your head in false modesty at the mention of your Cover.

“She is too humble,” Zhongli presses on, “she works closely with both the Feiyun Commerce Guilde as well as the Qixing, not to mention her involvement in the rites and performances of all Liyue’s festivals.” He beamed at you, the expression one of familial fondness, as if he were a proud father listing off his daughter's achievements. The smile you returned this time was far more genuine.

“Such an accomplished woman, and so young too!” Childe took a sip from his tea, slurping it in a horribly uncouth manner. “It makes me wonder, what would someone like you be doing—”

“Goodness gracious , Master Zhongli look at the time! You were needed back at the Funeral Parlor thirty minutes ago!” Your exclamation cut the Harbinger off, and you hoped he’d leave it alone until the two of you could speak more privately. Zhongli was the ideal Floater, and you could not afford to lose him at this crucial moment in your mission.

“You are right as always, [y/n]. I don’t know what I would do without you,” he stood gracefully, flicking his coattails out as he did. “I will see you tomorrow then—if you are still assisting Master Shizhuong, that is,” you nodded your assent and the consultant left without another word.

You stared awkwardly across the heavily laden table at the Fatui agent, whose smile had turned a shade too sharp for comfort.

“You’re much prettier in the light of day, you know,” he remarked, leaning back in his seat.

“And you’re a Harbinger,” you ignored his compliment.

“Yes, and?” He stared hard at you, and you forced yourself to maintain eye contact.

“Just an observation,” your back was ramrod straight, the antithesis to his lazy posture.

“So we’re just… not gonna talk about it, huh?” You shrugged. It felt as if your heart was thudding out of your chest and you were sure he could see the pulse of it from across the table.

“I don’t see why we would. I’m grateful for your help, of course, but—”

“Well if you’re so grateful where’s my payback, hmm?” You gaped at him. Payback? What could he possibly want, state secrets? Your codebook? This was bad, so so bad.

“I… am sure that we can come to an equitable agreement,” you stammered as he held one hand up for the check. You’d give him some chicken feed and be done with it. Your handler wouldn’t be happy, but with your cover blown they’d need to extract you anyway.

“I’m happy to find you so agreeable,” he laid down a sum of mora so obscene you nearly gagged. “How about Heyu Teahouse, five o’clock tomorrow? Ought to give us plenty of time to get to Master Shizhuong’s banquet.”

“...Excuse me?”

“Wear something slinky. As much as I enjoyed your jacket skirt thing from last night we wouldn’t want anyone recognizing it, now would we?” You’d been rendered speechless. The Harbinger stood with the innate grace of a man hardened by battle. He made to brush past you, but was stopped by the iron grip of your fingers on his wrist.

“ What is this? ” You hissed under your breath. You didn’t know what he was playing at but you didn’t like it.

“It’s a date , [y/n],” you dropped his wrist in shock. As you watched him walk away you began to formulate your debrief in your head. How on Teyvat would you explain this to your handler?

#my fics #fan fiction #genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #genshin impact head cannons #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #Tricks of the Trade #my writing #espionage #spy games #flirty childe #female reader

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