#this is peter nureyev and juno steel coded

[prompts-by-anjali]

“No. My dear friend, you can’t possibly be distracted now, our lives are not an Agatha Christie novel — ”

“Oh wow, a mystery!”

“Might I remind you that we’re on a deadline? Emphasis on dead? Pretty sure the bosses will have our heads if we’re late again.”

“Yeah, yeah. This will only take a second. Come look for clues with me!”

“No, I’m not going to encourage this — this tomfoolery. You’re not a detective, and we’re — oh, shit. Is that a severed finger?”

“Wow, a clue!”

“That is a severed finger. Please excuse me. I’m going to faint.”

[asterrrrion]

Peter Nureyev would a Stranger avatar and no I will not take any criticism

[helpimstuckposting]

My tags are so funny retrospectively like man I really had no idea exactly how gay this one would be

Juno: I am not being followed around by a guy in a suit all day

Sasha: Perhaps you can talk him out of the suit

Me: Haha gay

[flame-cat]

juno steel is literally so creep by radiohead coded. in contrast peter nureyev is dancing queen by abba coded.

[asexualsoup]

So I don't really write fan fiction and I never planned to but here we are I guess lol 😅

**Cannot emphasize enough that this is a WIP. It's not finished lol. But if you yell at me enough I probably will finish it.**

----------------------------------------------------------

Remember That I Love You

Juno Steel/Peter Nureyev

Post Season 4

So far, everything had gone exactly to plan. Rita had hacked the pharmacorps’ computers and, from the safety of the Ruby 7’s driver’s seat, had set enough fires across the compound to draw most of the guards exactly where she wanted them. No matter how many times Juno watched her do this, he always found himself in awe of how easy it all was for her. Like a kid with a magnet drawing little shapes in metal sand.

Once the guards had been dispersed, it was just a matter of using their stolen map and the Ruby’s own scans to figure out exactly where they needed to go. That’s where Juno came in.

“There,” he said, pointing to a cluster of moving dots on the Ruby's screen. Taking the hint, the Ruby 7 zoomed its three-dimensional map onto a hallway at the bottom of the complex. “That’s where we’ll find him.”

“You sure, Mista Steel?” Rita asked, unconvinced. “How can you be so sure? We only get one shot at this, so you gotta be exactly right—”

“I know, Rita. You don’t need to remind me. When the fires went off, the executives left their meeting and ran down to this hallway. The Ruby’s showing them all leaving the hallway, but they’re just phasing through a wall. There are no rooms marked there on the map. The Ruby’s scan isn’t faulty, so that means—”

“A safe room!” Rita finished. Her eyes were wide behind her glasses. “That’s so cool! And there’s a buncha them, too, from the look of it. A whole row of safe rooms! How can we be sure which one is his?”

“Ruby?” Juno said with a smile. “You know what to do.”

It was over in seconds. The Ruby had scanned their target so many times, it could recognize him instantly, even from this distance. Juno didn’t fully understand it either, but he knew he could trust the Ruby to be accurate. It had helped him find Rita on that asteroid, after all.

As soon as it found him, it sang a triumphant little tune.

“Good job, Ruby,” Juno said. “Send that scan to my comms. I’m heading in. Let’s go get Nureyev out once and for all.”

* * *

Juno moved quickly through the compound, listening and reacting to Rita’s directions in his ear every step of the way. With her help, he avoided all the patrolling guards long enough to sneak into one of the server rooms she hadn’t set ablaze.

Keeping his voice low just in case, he asked her, “You sure the code you’ve put on this chip will eliminate his debt?”

"And all his accounts and bio-records, yeah, yeah," her voice chirped in his earpiece. He chuckled, imagining the way she was rolling her eyes at him. "You’ve asked me that about a hundred times, Mista Steel. It’ll work. Trust me."

“Like you said, we’ve only got one shot at this. It’s gotta be flawless.”

"We’re Aurinkos, boss. It don’t gotta be flawless to be successful."

“Yeah, well,” Juno said, feeling that old reliable flicker of nerves and self-doubt in his gut. “I’d rather have both, if I’m honest.”

With Rita’s assistance, he inserted the chip. The computers beeped and popped for a bit until Rita finally squeaked again.

"That's done it, boss. You can take the chip out now."

Juno did as she said, slipping it back into his pants pocket. "Great," he said. "Now it's just the hard part. Getting to him, taking out the guards, and then the escape." He sighed, suddenly feeling his age. "No biggie."

"It'll be fine, Mista Steel," Rita said. "Once you find him, you won't be alone in there anymore. You'll have him to help you with those last two steps. And Mista Nureyev has always been good at fighting guards and sneakin' outta places. It’ll be fine!"

"Still weird hearing you call him that. Even on private comms. But you make a good point. Once I find him…."

Juno trailed off, his mouth feeling suddenly very dry. He hadn't been this close to Nureyev in months, not since he'd smelled his cologne at Aurinko Permanent Corrections. The realization sent a torrent of butterflies through his stomach: fear, panic, and a good amount of excitement too.

Nureyev was in the building. And within minutes, he'd be in Juno's arms. Safe and sound at last and with his whole life ahead of him. The future at his nimble fingertips.

It was the same gift he'd promised to Slip Jackson all those years ago. And while Nureyev couldn't give that future to Slip in the end, Juno could make sure Nureyev got it now.

So, with a deep breath to swallow his panic down, Juno pressed on to the next phase of the plan.

* * *

Juno had taken out so many guards over the course of his career that a few localized in one closed off room should be no problem at all. And with all the tricks he’d picked up from Nureyev during their year of crime together, they wouldn’t know what hit them.

He crawled on his belly through the vents, Rita and the Ruby still guiding him around every corner, until finally he peered through a grate into the room in question.

As soon as he saw Nureyev, he felt his heart fly into his throat. He was sitting in a chair against the wall, looking like a prisoner in that tiny room with four armed guards around him.

But that wasn't what made Juno so upset. Nureyev… didn't look like himself. He was thinner than the last time they'd seen each other. Paler, too, like he hadn't seen the sun in weeks. He was still dressed to the nines and covered in makeup, but none of that could hide the new slump in his posture and the deadened look behind his eyes.

As wonderful as it was to see him again, it was frightening to see how only half a year away had changed him.

That ended here and now.

In one hand, Juno held his blaster. And in the other, he held a small pebble-like ball. Another trick he'd picked up from Nureyev.

Slipping the ball through the grate, he watched as it hit the floor and exploded into vapor, instantly surrounding the guards in a thick curtain of smoke. As the guards coughed and sputtered and shouted to each other, he kicked open the grate and dropped himself into the room.

Darting out of the range of the smoke, he planted his feet firmly in front of Nureyev.

“Juno?” came that beautiful voice from behind him, the one that made his heart flutter.

“Yeah, yeah, you can swoon into my arms later,” he said. And even though he was joking, he wanted nothing more. “Whatever you’ve got to use against these guys, now’s the time to use it.”

“But, Juno, I—”

Whatever Nureyev was about to say would have to wait. The guards had finally collected themselves and were starting to stumble out of the smoke, blasters raised and searching for a target.

Ducking beneath the nearby table, Juno sent a pair of stun blasts out between its legs, completely incapacitating the first two guards he saw.

“I see you haven’t lost your touch, dear detective,” Nureyev said, sliding in beside Juno. “Shall we take this to the next level?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

It was a maneuver they’d learned together during their time on the Carte Blanche. That time felt like so long ago now, and yet Nureyev fell into position as smoothly and easily as if they’d practiced it only yesterday. Juno would have to thank Buddy for those lessons later, among a million other things.

Grabbing opposite ends of the table, they swung its legs out from under it and in one fluid motion, launched it flat-side first into the smoke. Both of the remaining guards grunted in pain as they were struck, and somewhere within the haze, they both collapsed under the weight of the table.

“You truly are a sharpshooter, aren’t you?” Nureyev said as he leaped to his feet again and reached out a hand to help Juno. “You hit them both even through all that fog.”

“Hey, it was a big table,” Juno said, taking that proffered hand. “And anyway, you’re just as likely to—”

But his words were cut off. As soon as he’d gotten to his feet, Nureyev’s mouth had found his. The kiss was hard, desperate, pressing his lips almost painfully against his teeth. But it was exactly what they both needed after all that time apart. Juno couldn’t help the moan that escaped his throat, and his hands found Nureyev’s collar, pulling him in even closer.

Once they’d separated, Nureyev narrowed his eyes. “I told you not to come after me.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Juno said, hopping up to swiftly kiss Nureyev’s lips again.

“I suppose not. Though we’ll definitely have words about this later. A lot of words.”

Nureyev released him and without another word, flew gracefully into the depths of the smoke. Still a little awestruck, Juno found his feet again and moved to follow him.

Squinting through the fog, he peered around quietly for any sign of the two guards they’d knocked down. The table was easy enough to find, its legs splayed like a dead spider on its back. But the two guards that it had hit? Those were a lot harder to spot. And so was Nureyev.

Juno slunk low to the floor, crouched near the table’s legs and stared into the surrounding fog for any sign of movement. It only took a minute for him to spot something. A glint of metal in the fog. He stared in its direction, trying to find it again, but couldn't.

Instead, when a guard finally did appear in the smoke, it was to his far left. They stumbled near him, their shirt pulled high over their mouth and nose. They made eye contact with Juno, who already had his blaster raised, but before either of them could make a move, a dark heel swung out from the fog and hit the guard right in the back of the head, knocking them out cold. With another glint of metal, Nureyev emerged from the smoke and crouched at Juno’s side once again.

“That was brutal,” Juno whispered. “I always forget you can kick that high.”

“So did they, apparently.”

“You might want to take off your jewelry before we handle that other guard, Nureyev. I can see it shining through the fog.”

For the first time since their reunion, something made Nureyev pause. “Juno… there’s something that you should—”

“Let’s deal with the other guard first, Nureyev. Do you have any idea where they are?”

“Juno, I—”

But whatever Nureyev was going to say, it was cut off by the cracking sound of a blaster shot. Nureyev gasped and flew backward, hitting the ground hard.

“Nureyev!” Juno shouted before he could stop himself.

Flying onto his feet, he whipped around and pointed his blaster in the direction the shot had come from. The fourth and final guard stood there, grinning through the smoke. Her blaster was pointed right at Juno’s head.

“Really?” Juno gasped, trying desperately to think straight through the panic now flooding his brain. “You sneak up behind me and decide to shoot your own guy instead?”

“I was following my orders, lady,” she said darkly, her hand flexing against the trigger. Ready to send another laser directly through Juno’s brain.

He wasn’t going to give her the chance. With one hand, he grabbed her wrist and twisted, sending her laser up to the ceiling. Bringing around his own blaster, he struck her hard across the face, sending her sprawling to the floor where his own shot struck her right in the chest a second later. Her eyes went hazy as the stun wave overtook her body, and then she closed her eyes, unconscious.

Breathing heavily, Juno dropped his gun and rushed to Nureyev’s side. Nureyev was panting hard, one hand over his face. His hands were shaking.

“Goddammit, Nureyev. No,” Juno wept, searching Nureyev’s body with his hands. “No no no. Where did they hit you? Oh, goddammit.”

But no matter where he looked, he didn’t find any blood. All he could find was a small laser burn on the front of Nureyev’s shirt.

“It was just a stun blast,” he said, relief flooding him once more. “You’re fine. You’re gonna be fine.”

But as Nureyev gave another groan of pain, Juno felt his relief crack once more.

“N… Nureyev? Come on. Snap out of it.”

Nureyev groaned again, his mouth twisting in pain and all four of his limbs starting to tremble. The fingers by his forehead curled, as if trying to grasp at something, and between them, Juno could see that glint of metal again. It was only then that Juno realized Nureyev wasn’t wearing any jewelry. No rings, no earrings.

Nothing but whatever was shining on his temple.

Grabbing Nureyev’s hand, he slowly pulled it away.

His stomach dropped. “Nureyev… no… please, no… Is that a…?”

Nureyev groaned again and Juno swore he could hear the pops of electricity coming from it.

Because right there, stuck on Nureyev’s temple, was a little gray chip. Smaller than the Theia Soul had been, but otherwise the same.

“Goddammit. Nureyev, what do I do?” Juno asked desperately.

In response, Nureyev cried out as the chip zapped him again, and this time, Juno actually saw the skin beginning to sizzle around it.

He fumbled for his comms, knowing somewhere in the back of his panicked mind that if anyone could fix this, it would be Rita. But a second later, as Nureyev’s body went slack, Juno’s heart stopped.

Nureyev’s eyes peered up to meet his, bleary and unfocused. Lines of blood began to form around the edges of the chip.

“Nureyev?” Juno asked breathlessly.

“Ju…no…” was all the man managed to say before his eyes closed and unconsciousness claimed him too.

(to be continued?)

[ao3feed-jupeter]

Nureyev learns coding

by lilarose300

Peter Nureyev is very good with people. It's like a well practiced dance, where you spin your words into a conversation, find people's ulterior motives with calculated steps, all while hiding your own behind a smiling mask. It's a skill he is very proud of. However, one thing he does not understand so well are computers, and when a certain gift for his charming lady requires a bit of coding, he has no other choice but to reach out for help. It's a relief when someone as talented as Rita is always ready to help.

Unfortunatly, she is also the most curious about knowing what a certain journal he is writing contains. Then again, what is new with an enigma like himself?

Words: 4487, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Penumbra Podcast

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Peter Nureyev, Rita (Penumbra Podcast)

Relationships: Peter Nureyev & Rita, Rita & Juno Steel, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel (Background) - Relationship

Additional Tags: Missing Scene, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e21-22 & 25 Juno Steel and What Lies Beyond Spoilers, rita is the best, Nureyev is trying his best

Read on AO3 at https://ift.tt/U9OFRvx

[watcherglowcloud]

oh god this is so good

the carte blanche as crane wives lyrics because I'm normal and totally not planning animatics rn

Juno - "Violence forgiving steel, wreckage in the wake of cruel betrayl, pay my sins in blood but I'm not done" (I Ain't Done)

Peter - "Don't look too hard 'cause you won't like the scars he left in me" (Metaphor)

Rita - "Take me to war, honey, I dare you, I'll be the sweetest thing to ever scare you" (Take Me to War)

Buddy - "Little girl, don't let them sell you any armor, all your ribs are still your own" (Ribs)

Jet - "I'm afraid, is this a bunker or a shallow grave? Either way, I'm left holding onto the shovel and rope, digging in the dirt, finding bones, finding ghosts" (Hollow Moon)

Vespa - "My stone, my shield, my steady hand, hold your light to the darkness in my head" (The Garden)

[cloudwithoutsilverlining]

ok so logically Nureyev’s art skills have gotta be absolutely godawful and I find that really funny

[aeternamantes]

😍💕💓💓💝💖💞💓😍

[incorrect-tpp-quotes]

Juno, staring at a paper: What is this, a bank floor plan?

Peter: It's a zoo Juno.

Juno: ... were you trying to steal a lion cub?

Peter: For The Last Time It's Just A Doodle!

[screechingfromthevoid]

So, uh, with crime family happening code names are a thing right?

Peter's code name NEEDS to be Jupiter. I'm sorry I just don't make the rules.

[alexandenigtscreations]

Chapters: ½ Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Rating: Teen and up Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel Additional Tags: Poisoning, Poison, Heist gone wrong, Peter Nureyev has ADHD, Rita defiantly has ADHD, Nonbinary Juno Steel, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, TPP, Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe Summary:

After Nureyev get’s poisoned on a mission, he’s determined to see it to it’s completion. He and Juno make quite the team after all. Had many thoughts after reading @kaiserkorresponds​ 's fic ---> [The Celestial's Kiss https://archiveofourown.org/works/31409258 ]. Which apparently has been spinning round and round my head. I do love a good poisioning <3</p>

Chapter 1:

It should have been obvious from the moment the drink hit his lips.  The sour bitterness that the burn of poor quality alcohol failed to mask.  It should have been obvious.  But focused as he was on keeping a straight face; Nureyev found himself swallowing the vial fluid before he could begin to think better of it.  He paused, eyes flicking down to the odd shimmer he’d mistaken for ice melt.  

That- wasn’t ideal-

He filed deeper thoughts on the subject away in favor of assessing for further threats.  The facility crawled with them, from the myriad of security cameras to their flamboyantly garbed host.  They were watching a little too closely, a little too carefully.  A smile playing across their garish lips.

Nureyev sat back, glancing over at his goddess.  A vision in the scarlet A-cut dress.  There was a slit running up his thigh, revealing quite a bit of leg and a hint of a holster.  

Juno’s own drink, served neat, bore the same tell-tale signs of tampering.  The Detective swirled it about his glass, clearly about to throw it back in his usual no nonsense fashion.  

That would not due.

With all the coolness Nureyev could muster, he placed a gentle hand over Juno’s cup.  His Detective tensed, sending a soft, questioning gaze his way.  

“Not very hospitable, spiking a Lady’s drink.”

“What?” Juno pulled back, guard up.  

Nureyev’s fingers curled around the glass, taking a moment to weigh his options.  He had half a mind to fling it’s contents into the eyes of Jody, the large thuggish man directly across the table.  He might even have time to incapacitate Mx. Balsa and get Juno to cover him before reinforcements came.  They might even make it out in one piece-  

It was tempting, but ultimately would get them nowhere.

They were on a job, after all.  If there was any chance of salvaging the situation, that should be their first option.  One little computer virus, how hard could it be to plant?

He took the glasses and poured their contents on the floor, the ice shattered on impact.  

Mx. Balsa smiled.  “Very good Mr. Tillerson.  It seems you passed our test.”

“A test.  We came to have a civilized discussion, Mx. Balsa.” Nureyev said pointedly, he could still feel the burn of the alcohol in his throat “Not play childish games.”

Mx. Balsa shrugged their narrow shoulders “Childish or no, it’s effective.  We don’t let just anyone play with us.  I’m sure you understand.”

“Understand?” Juno bristled, “Understand my boot! You try to pull something like that-”

Juno came up short when Nureyev squeezed his thigh; nodding his head graciously, “Naturally.  Now are there any other- tests- we should be made aware of or are we free to get down to business.”  

Was he imagining it?  Or was his stomach already souring?  

File it away-

“Down to business!” Juno blurted, “They offered us a spiked cocktail and you want to get back to business?” he sat back, crossing arms over his chest “I say no way.  The only people that I know of who spike drinks are scoundrels and cheats.  How are we supposed to take them at their word?” At some point the moral outrage in his voice changed into a conversational tone.

Nureyev could have kissed him, if it weren’t for their cover- “My colleague has a point.  You’ve tested us, it seems only fair that we should test you.” he gave his best smile, “Perhaps a sample of your information for our technicians to verify.”

“I hardly believe that to be necessary-” said Mx. Balsa.  Nureyev knew that they were the sort of person that relied heavily on their reputation.  But deals weren’t made on reputation alone.  

“Oh?  But I do.  Unless you are unable to deliver what we discussed?” Nureyev stared into their pale eyes.  They didn’t flinch.  He waited a beat, then two and still nothing.  He stood with a heavy sigh “I believe our business here has concluded then.  Mr. Micah.” He offered a hand to Juno, who accepted it.  

“Sure Tillerson.”

The pair made to leave. Jody, Mx. Balsa’s companion moved to intercept.  Which was effective both for the fact he was so broad of shoulder as to eclipse the door behind him and so tall that even Nureyev felt as though he had to peer up into his face.  

Instinctively, Nureyev moved in front of Juno.  It was ridiculous, a man that large simply should not be allowed.  

“Like I said, there is no need to leave.” Mx. Balsa’s tone did not change, but there was a weight to it now, a tension.  

“And why should we stay?” Juno crossed his arms defiantly over his chest.

They surveyed him for a moment. “If it’s information you want, it’s information you will have.”  They slid a chip into their comms and made a fuss of downloading a sample.  It chirped upon completion and they offered it up with a flourish. “Please, a sample, if you will.”  

Nureyev’s eyes flicked from the chip to their host and back.  He smiled, accepting it in a cocky, gracious manor that was felt exclusively by his alias.

“Very well, I’ll have our team verify this information.  If you would excuse me.”  Jody made an intercept but this time Mx. Balsa intervened.  A small shake of their head, jewels shimmering in the light.  That was a relief.  With a nod to Juno, Nureyev slipped out the doors and made a beeline towards the restroom even as he sent the data to Rita.  

As much as he wanted to run, he didn’t.  He kept his gate easy and posture confident.  That changed as soon as he was in the privacy of the privy.  

Nureyev bolted to a stall, shoving two fingers down his throat.  He gagged and wretched till his eyes watered, jaw cramped and his skull pounded.  Bowing lower with each convulsion, clinging to the hope he’d retch up the vial cocktail.  

It wasn’t working.  

He reached deeper, spayed his fingers further, feeling the bite of his sharp teeth in his hand, nails scraping on the inside of his throat-  

Historically, he’d viewed being ill at will as a necessary evil of his trade.  A skill, as it were.  

One he’d never mastered.  

It had landed him in the hospital on an occasion or two.  

Try as he might, the only thing he succeeded in doing was ruining his makeup.  He gave up, of course he did, there wasn’t a point in driving himself into exhaustion.  Yet alone displaying that weakness for the world to see.  

There was nothing for it.  He would just have to bide his time until they returned to the Carte Blanche.  

In all probability, he had time.  Brahmese people were particularly resilient to a variety of toxins.  Not by some evolutionary fluke, but by design.  The planet had always been hostile to its human inhabitants.  In all its infinite wisdom, the government, rather than deal with the expensive venture of cleaning the pollutants from living zones, had instead chosen to subsidize gene editing.  That was before the war though.  

Mag had been so relieved to find Nureyev had inherited the genetic coding.  ‘First rule of thieving Pete’ he’d laughed ‘take any advantage you can get!’

Advantage- Nureyev snorted, more like a double edged sword.   While it afforded him some protection, it also marked him as distinctly Brahmese.

File it away-

The thought of the Carte Blanche again, of Vespa Ilkay.  She was the last person he wanted alerted to the genetic quirk.  

File that away too while you’re at it-

Nureyev turned his attention to the vanity.  He’d made quite the mess of himself.  Lipstick and eyeliner smeared, ropes of various… secretions clinging to his nose and mouth, eyes red and puffy.  He frowned at the fine dusting of red circling the tender flesh behind the spectacles.  Petechiae- apparently he’d burst a few blood vessels.  

Great, just great.  All the work he’d put into Tillerson’s visage for naught- file it away.  

All the same, he allowed himself a moment of discontent as he began the process of cooling the swelling, washing away the evidence and rework his appearance.  

The door swung open, and scarlet filled his periphery.  

“God Damnit , there you are- Tillerson-” bless him, they’d practiced using their aliases for a week before the job and Juno was still uncomfortable with them.  

“Mr. Micah.” Nureyev returned, blending the concealer under his eyes.  

“You were gone for a while-” Juno didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to.  Nureyev could tell when his Detective was worried.  He was fidgeting head to toe, poor thing.

“I decided to visit the powder room while waiting on our team to analyze the data.” he glanced at his comms “The information appeared to check out- And- oh my they seemed to have attempted to sneak in a trojan horse.  Rita assures it isn’t a problem but-”

Juno plainly wasn’t listening.  He was looking him over with that sharp eye, stepping into his space.  “You okay babe?” he breathed, reaching out to smooth a hair back into place and cupping his cheek “your eyes are red.”

Nureyev jumped in surprise.  Had Juno even bothered to check for surveillance devices or-  People slept with their co-workers all the time, he and Juno were no exception to that rule, but what if they were seen?  Found out?  Their cover blown!  What if-

But no- he trusted the Detective.  

He cleared his head gently kissing the lady’s palm.  He considered for a moment telling Juno about the poison, but what came out of his mouth instead was “Just some minor irritation, love.” He stepped away, Mr. Tillerson sliding back into place.  “I suppose we should return to our hosts.”

“Yeah-"he flashed an uncertain smile.  Just don’t go disappearing on me again.  Thought they were going to eat me alive or something-”

“We can not have that now, can we?” He returned the smile, trying to exude his usual confidence despite the weakness in his legs.  They would have to wrap this up quickly, if the dizziness was anything to go by.  Plant the virus and leave.

“You were gone for quite a while Mr. Tillerson.” greeted their host.

“Merely conversing with my associate.” he shrugged, “And you’re in luck, Mx. Balsa.  Your information appears to be- genuine.” Nureyev planted a firm hand on the table, as much for balance as it was to return the chip.  

“Of course it is, we went through great pains to ensure it to be so.”

“Indeed. I’m sure the origin story would be most interesting but we have a matter to settle.  The price.”

They had discussed this before.  Mx. Balsa wouldn’t deal with those who didn’t have something interesting to offer.  It had taken Buddy and Rita time to figure out their tastes, and even more to fabricate a program.  A hacking bot.  It wasn’t real of course, the only thing that made it halfway convincing at all was Rita piloting the thing remotely.  

“Yes, the price-” they drawled.  Nureyev did not take kindly to that tone.  “The price just went up.”

Nureyev’s eyebrows crept upwards while Juno bolted upright “Hey now!  We agreed to the terms before this even-”

“Micah, please”

“No!  So far they’ve tried to poison us and hid a goodie in their sample intel.  Now they want more .  Hell, they should be paying us for this-”

“Mr. Micah, please.  I merely desire to know what it is you hope to accomplish with the information.  And to get a taste for your program’s capabilities as you have of my intel.”

Nureyev pretended to consider it, placing a hand on Juno’s knee and tapping out a message, before saying “These appear to be fair terms, however, what I’m wondering is if there are any more hidden fees.”  

To say Mx. Balsa was slippery, was an understatement.  Nureyev had seen people like them before, knowledge brokers, able to root out and twist any grain of truth to their heart’s desire.  This was not someone he wanted to be investigated by.  Juno would be a veritable beacon.  Public employees were so easy to track-

Mx. Balsa took their time in testing the program.  Rita informed them when she’d gotten the virus set up in their system, it didn’t take her long at all.  Now they just had to play the wait game.  They fained interest in the intel, made up a story to satiate their curiosity and asked enough questions to avoid suspicion.  All the while Nureyev could feel his health take a steady trend downwards.  

Once or twice he thought they shot him a knowing look as his attention began to wonder, or that Jody was leaning in a little too closely.  He tugged at his collar absently, the sweat plastering his shirt to him under the corset.  It was hard to gauge if the pressure of the boning was having a positive or negative effect on the nausea.  If they knew he’d been poisoned, what would they do?  Would they try to revoke their deal?  Detain them?  Hurt them?  Hurt Juno?  

He could not let that happen, would not.  

Juno squeezed his thigh, startling him out of his thoughts.  Mx. Balsa was pushing a new chip towards them, the one with the information they’d spent the better part of a day mulling over.  It was encased in a silver embossed box, flashy and probably manufactured to ensure no one could scan its contents.

Nureyev took out his comms once more and clicked it into place.  It was all there, Rita checked for them.  Thank the stars it wasn’t another test.  After all, it would be suspicious if they left with only half the intel.  

“I believe that concludes our business.” he smiled, rising gratefully to his feet.  

“We’ve kept you so long, won’t you stay for dinner?”

“Dinner my ass.” Juno grumbled for only Nureyev’s ears.

“Didn’t quite catch that-” Mx. Balsa frowned.

“Ohh Sorry, we’ll pass, don’t feel like dying today.” Juno smiled, voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Ahh, Pity.”

Nureyev’s laugh was cut short from a stabbing pain in his abdomen.  He started again, swaying, hand pressed to his stomach.  Certain he’d find blood.

“Everything okay there Mr. Tillerson?”

Glancing down revealed only the pristine pearl embroidery of the corset.  No blade, no blood, he was…. fine-  

He released his death grip on the chair, quickly filing away that sensation best he could.  Their mission was nearly done after all, no need for theatrics now.

“Perfectly.” He smiled wider, displaying sharp teeth.  “We’ll show ourselves out.”

Jody made a big show of opening the doors for them so that the muscled chords of his biceps were on full display.  They’d just managed to step before slamming it shut at their backs.  

The smile Nureyev had been wearing, dissolved into a grimace. He set a brisk, if uneven, pace to the exit.  

“Hey- Ran-” Juno groaned “Tillerson!  Wait up!” Juno clacked to his side.  

“Apologies Micah, I merely-ah!” he stumbled over his feet, Juno caught him in his strong arms.

“Hey- are-are you alright?”

His head was still spinning and there was that question again.  He had no desire to deal with it at present. “I-”

“The truth this time.” Juno pressed, ever the persistent Lady.

“Just a tad under the weather-” he admitted.  

“Babe, why didn’t you say something-”

“Something I drank.  It’s fine love.”

Bone deep tiredness pulled him down.  He wanted nothing more than to surrender himself to the arms of his goddess.  It would be safe there, warm.

Juno looked like he was going to ask more questions but was interrupted.

A shrill cry tore through the hall.  It sounded like Mx. Balsa.

“What the hell?” Juno craned his neck to look.  "You don’t think they found it yet?��

"Let’s- not check.”  Nureyev entwined his arm with Juno’s, setting up a brisk pace towards the doors.  Relying on the Detective as one might a crutch.

There was a wash of hurried footsteps, people shouting, blasters charging- the only thing that made sense was security-

“I believe we’ve overstayed our welcome Detective!” Nureyev said.

“Ya Think!” Juno yelled back, voice cracking from the force of it.  Even so- he withdrew a fist full of blaster from the dress slit.

But Nureyev wasn’t focusing on Juno, wasn’t focusing on the escape.  Jody was barreling on through the guards, weapon raised and charging and trained on-

“Micah!”  He slammed into Juno just as the bolt whizzed past striking another employee.  They rotated so that he could serve as Juno’s shield while giving him time to line up a shot.  It might have worked too if he’d been a little quicker-  

The next thing he knew he was violently ripped from the Detective.  A strong, bulky arm wrapped about his throat, crushing it.

Jody-

It had to be, few could make Nureyev’s toes leave the ground.  His chest quaked with strain of forcing air in and out of his constricted windpipe.  He kicked for purchase, skiving off the panic by attempting to worm his forearm up through the choke hold; the other diving into a pocket for a blade.

“Tillerson!” Juno shouted.

“Important to you isn’t he.” Their voice was surprisingly soft and high for their bulk.

Juno fired two shots beyond them, he must have hit his mark because there was the sound of something hitting the floor.  

Jody jerked back, causing stars to burst in front of Nureyev’s vision.  Fear clouded his mind, making him claw at the bodyguard.  Even so he blindly groped for the familiar curvature of a handle-

“No more of that-” they warned “Or I will be forced to-” but what they’d be forced to do was lost.  

Nureyev found a knife amongst the stashed trinkets and baubles, he had just enough wherewithal to mouth ‘ ready- ’ before manically plunging the blade into the brute’s thigh.

They howled, dropping Nureyev.  Juno sent a stunner straight to their chest as soon as his partner was clear.  The lady darted forwards, catching the thief under arm and hauling farther along the passage.  Nureyev, for his part, gulped down air and forced his sluggish legs to take his weight.  

They had no choice but to run.  Nureyev readied fresh blades, easier to locate now his brain had a proper supply of oxygen.  Pressed for time as they were, he couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t recovering like he ought to.

They rounded a corner and “Damn it” Juno hissed, taking in the thick ring of guards round a door “There’s too many-”

Manny there were.  But they also appeared green, scared.  Nureyev didn’t need three decades of experience reading people to know they could be intimidated.  

“Perhaps-” he puffed, flashing a wiry smile.  "Let’s see what they are made of.“  It was all the warning he gave before sprinting towards the group.  

It was a foolish plan, a desperate one.  There were screams and shouts as Nureyev’s blades flashed.  He had to give them a little credit, they held ranks far longer than he’d imagined them capable.  That all changed with the first spray of blood.  Typically he’d aim to wound in Juno’s presence; but with the way his hands shook he was taking any opening that presented itself.

Distantly he could hear the bite of Juno’s words as he called out and could feel his presence joining at his side.  The two of them versus the small army of guards.  He allowed himself to get caught up in the simple rhythm of the moment.  

For the first time since the mission started, Nureyev’s mind cleared.  All there was was the ache of his breath, the burn in his limbs and the death defying dance with Juno Steel.  

They shot and sliced their way to an opening; clawed a path to the hall, the entrance way and the street beyond and-

Sweet escape-

This - this moment right here, was what Nureyev lived for.

The dizzying rush of the night air spurred the pair on until all sounds of pursuit faded.  Despite his long legs and penchant for running, Juno easily kept pace.  He could feel it now, the sickness worrying away at him from the inside.  He didn’t know how much more he could take before his legs would give out or lungs burst.  Still he pushed harder, dug deeper, counting his steps to drown out the complaints of the body.  

At long last they stumbled into an ally way; a narrow thing that reeked of misuse.  

"Okay- What the Hell!” Juno rounded on Nureyev, eye flashing in the dim light of the dome.

Nureyev swallowed, hardly able to keep his focus on the Detective.  The light cardio had left him feeling queasy and weak.  Wrong.  He supposed poison on an empty stomach would do that to you.  Not to mention how tender his throat was after Jody’s mistreatment.  

He put a hand to his clammy forehead, swaying a little.

“I thought I was the reckless one,” he lectured “the one that went off half co- babe?  Nureyev?!!!”

He’d doubled over, retching earnestly this time.  Just as before, there was nothing to bring up-  The cruel dry heaves cramped his core and set his eyes watering, legs folding under the crushing weight of it.  

“Babe, heyheyhey, hey~ I got you-” strong arms wrapped around him, propping him up, “I’ve got you.” Small circles worked into his back as they waited for it to end.

“S-sorry-” he gasped between convulsions.  They didn’t have time for this, they didn’t have time for any of this.  Yet here he was endangering Juno with his own ineptitude.  “I’m- ss-”

“Ugh-uh, no, you’re not doing that.” Juno cut him off.  “Hell, when you said you weren’t feeling good-”  Nureyev made to apologize again, but Juno gave a warning “hun”

He slumped against the brickwork, trembling and breathing heavily.  

“Done?”

Nureyev gave a non committal hum.  It was all he trusted himself to manage.  

All the same, a moment was afforded to him to clean up with a moist towelette.  Again his makeup was ruined, but he was far from caring.  The important thing at present was to leave this city behind.  

Juno seemed to be thinking along the same vein.  “Think you can stand?  Or should I contact Jet?”

“No need for that love.” Nureyev smiled weakly, nausea churning within “Just give me a hand.”  

The Detective obliged, neatly entangled their fingers and pulled him along using his comms to navigate.  He was mighty grateful for the assistance, between the stomach ache and the weight in his limbs, he was having difficulty remaining upright.  

Nureyev eyed the nooks and crannies of the back streets.  Had he been alone he’d likely of spent the night curled up in one of those charming locations.  Cold and cramped, but out of sight.  He sighed, surrendering himself to the guidance of his goddess.  

“Hello Ruby.” Nureyev greeted wirily.  It chirped in response alerting Jet to their presence.  The door swung open of the Ruby’s own volition and the pair slid in.  “Jet-”

“Ransom.”  Jet acknowledged.

“Hey big guy.”

“Are either of you injured?” he asked, glancing back in the rearview mirror.  “I ask because of the blood.”

“Don’t think so.  Had to get a little rough on the getaway.” Juno explained glancing down at his gore streaked dress and coat.  “Honestly, if we could move out, that would be great.  I don’t really fancy meeting up with those nut jobs again.”

Nureyev hummed in agreement.  Doing his level best to keep his expression neutral and his breathing measured.  He must look a mess judging by the way Jet kept eyeing him.  

Turbulence made him gasp as pain blossomed in his abdomen.  His composure slipping and rearranging like water.  He slouched lower, trying to get some relief-

Juno was talking with Jet, or talking at him more like.  Nureyev stopped listening after the first few moments, lulled instead by his Lady’s warm voice and the way it crackled at the edges when he became impassioned.  He was just so tired-

Before he knew it, the thief was leaning on the Detective’s shoulder, sinking into his side, bloodshot eyes fluttering shut.  Normally he’d be loathed to sleep at the end of a job like some worn out child.  But he couldn’t fight anymore.

[shuttymcshutfuck]

I get it now that it’s too late, I never stopped feeling guilty (Chapter two)

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast (Junoverse)

Type: hurt/comfort

Word count: 

Relationships: Past romantic Jupeter, romantic Peter Nureyev and OC (OC is barely in it), platonic Juno Steel and Rita 

TW: Food mention (if i’ve missed anything you think needs to be tagged let me know)

Ao3 link / Chapter one

Juno never expected to see Peter aboard the Carte Blanche, especially not with another man.

Inspired by "Green" by Cavetown. Chapter two of two, this is the happy ending (ish) to chapter one. You need to read chapter one to know whats going on.

“Mista Steel? Are you awake?” Juno was woken up by Rita’s muffled voice coming from the other side of his door. He debated just staying quiet and pretending he was still asleep so that she’d leave. He thought better of it though, knowing she’d just come back later.

 “You’re fired, Rita.” A millisecond later, she was next to him. Juno hadn’t used their code word in a while. Even after everything they’ve gone through in these past couple months Juno’s not used it in a pretty long time. She had a worried look on her face, one glimpse of it and Juno couldn’t look her in the eyes.

 “Boss, what’s wrong?” She spoke in such a soft voice, like speaking too loud or harsh would shatter him. But the softness is what broke him, he started sobbing again and he immediately felt her arms around him, holding on tight. “Shh, it’s okay. I don’t know what’s been going on these past couple of days but I’m here for you, Boss. Whenever you’re ready.” They sat like that for a while before Rita moved them both so that they were lying on his bed. She never let go though, not even for a second. 

 They lay there for a while until Juno fell asleep, feeling her fingers run through his hair. When he woke up she was sound asleep, obviously he didn’t want to wake her so he stayed wrapped in her arms. That was until Buddy came to say that lunch was ready.  

 “We’ll be there in a few minutes, Miss Buddy.” Juno felt the vibrations of Rita’s chest when she spoke. She nudged him a little and he loosened his grip. “How about we go have lunch and we can talk after? You look like you could use a nice meal.” Juno couldn’t help but nod, suddenly remembering the forgotten dinner leftovers from last night and the fact that he’d slept through breakfast. He shuffled through with Rita by his side. He didn’t speak a word during lunch and only looked at his food and Rita. No one mentioned it but he could feel eyes on him, especially from the end of the table where Peter and Elias sat. He didn’t stay at the table long, practically inhaling his lunch, partly because he was hungry and partly because he didn’t want to be there any longer than he needed to be. Once he got to his room he lay down staring at the ceiling again like it held the answers to all of his problems. Not long after, Juno heard the door swoosh and then felt the mattress shift a little as Rita joined him. They both lay in silence apart from the sound of their breathing and the ship's engine humming gently.

 “I can’t believe he moved on.” Juno started to think aloud. “I don’t know why I thought he’d wait for me. I was the one who left him anyway but a part of my mind had a sliver of hope that I'd see him again and he’d have waited.”  Juno felt the lump in his throat grow back but he forced it down.

 “Who?” Juno suddenly realised that Rita hadn’t known about him and Peter. She didn’t know about a lot of things that happened really. He wished that she could know but he couldn’t find it in himself to tell her all the terrible things he’s seen. 

 “Peter. We used to know each other. Hell, I was pretty sure I loved him. I still am but he’s moved on and now I have to see it everyday. I have to see him happy with someone else.” He couldn’t hold back his tears anymore so he just let them drip down the side of his face into his ear and onto the bed sheets below. Juno felt Rita take his hand and squeeze it a little. 

 “I’m sorry, Boss. I don’t know what you and Mista Ransom had but I’m sure you’ll be okay soon. I know it hurts but you’ve just gotta keep moving. You’re extra lucky ‘cause you got me. And I ain’t ever gonna leave ya.” Out of the corner of Juno’s good eye he could see Rita shed a few tears herself.

 “Thanks, Rita.” Juno felt himself smile a little just thinking about it. Rita was always there for him. She was there when he first started as a detective on the force, she stuck with him when he got fired, she stayed and helped him when he got low and she stayed even when he disappeared for weeks and came back missing an eye with no explanation. Rita was his rock and he doesn’t think he could ever put into words how grateful he was to have her by his side. 

 “No problem, Boss. Now how about we watch a stream to cheer you up? It’s sure more entertaining than the ceiling.” Juno nodded and watched her head for the door.

 “Great, you stay here and pick while I go get some snacks!” And with that, Rita was gone. In all honesty, Juno had no idea how to put on a stream on his comms nevermind the ship so he decided to just wait for Rita to get back. 

~~

“What’s your plan, Boss?” Juno was surprised at Rita’s question as it was the first thing either of them had said - apart from making fun of parts of the stream every now and then.

 “What do you mean?” Juno saw Rita face him out of the corner of his eye.

 “I mean, we’re stuck on the ship for a while. You can’t exactly hide in your room forever.” Juno suddenly found that his hands in his lap were the most interesting thing he could look at. 

 “I… honestly don’t know. I’m going to have to just suck it up I guess. He’s happy now and that’s what matters.” Juno felt her put a hand on his knee.

 “I know it’s gonna be hard, Mista Steel but I’m sure it’ll get easier over time. Until then, you know you can always come to me. We could make a little codeword for when you don’t think you can do a job with them like in the movie “Secret Agent Exes”! Sorry, I’m getting side tracked. My point is if you don’t think you can deal with it then tell me.”

 “Thanks Rita… that means a lot.” The way she beamed back at him made the corners of his mouth turn up a bit. It was nice to know someone was in his corner, she always was. And hopefully, she always would be.

[nureyevv]

Rita Detective Agency vs The Man Without A Name

When Rita first joins the crime crew doesn’t trust Peter Nureyev one bit

Of course back in those days she knew him by another name: Rex Glass

She hadn’t seen him since he’d stolen that Martian mask all those months ago

And, though the boss had found him annoying, she’d thought he was plenty charming. Sure he was a criminal, but there was no reason to be so judgmental!

She watched Mistah Steel’s face when they saw each other again, though, just before they left mars, and she was quick to figure out what had taken place between them, though

See, there were these face stealin’ moon dogs that lived near jupeter— she’d learned about em in one of her shows— and basically they could mimic any face they saw in order to trick unsuspecting people into becoming their dinner— in one episode a face stealer had taken the face of someone’s beloved BUT when it saw how much Justin (that’s the hero’s name of course) loved his husband the face stealer ended up Falling! In! Love! with Justin instead of eating him and it was all so tragic and romantic, but of course Justin couldn’t go on without the real Mika—

Anyway OBVIOUSLY mistah glass had been mimicked by a face stealer and sworn the boss to secrecy, but even if he fooled everyone else, he couldn’t trick Rita!

So she got straight to work. At first she just tried to use some of those classic face stealer catchin questions, ya know, how many limbs did your mom’s mom have, how do ya feel about boiled eye balls, the usual. Not-Glass was good though, too good

Plan B was less exciting. She just hacked his comms to check his search history for face stealer forums. That was easy enough.

Or at least, it should have been easy enough. Even though she knew Glass hadn’t been involved with Dark Matters for over a year, gettin into his comms reminded her of patching the boss through to that old friend of his who worked with them now. Every time she got through a layer of security codes another popped up in its place. She almost couldn’t make it through.

But she was Rita, so of course she did. Glass’s comms themselves were even stranger than his security, though, mostly because there was nothing there. Who went through all that trouble to hide nothing? She didn’t know, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find out.

Even if the guy had virtually no viral footprint, there was one footprint everyone had. The real kind! So maybe it wasn’t the most “formally worked in law enforcement” thing to do to break into Glass’s room on the ship but... well she was curious! What else could she do?

Hacking the ships door system was easy enough, but figuring out when Glass would be out of the way was much more difficult. Eventually, though, Buddy sent Glass with the boss to stock up on supplies on a nearby planet. They pained look on mistah steel’s face wasn’t lost on her, but she liked to take things one mystery at a time.

Glass’s rooms were.... well they were something. For such a well groomed man he was quite the slob if she was honest. Little papers scattered the room, crumpled up into loose balls. Upon further investigation she found that most of them were just pen doodles, and she could appriciate a fellow artist. She even found a couple that reminded her vaguely of the crew. One stick lady had Vespa’s bright green hair, the next was marked by jet’s enormous stature. She found a few of the boss and even one of herself, which she pocketed.

She moved on to investigate Glass’s desk. Oddly enough, most of the drawers were as empty as his comms. One had a tube of red lipstick, another held a couple of creds. The most interesting thing she found was a book that she saw, when she opened it, had been hollowed out to hold a single knife. It wasn’t a completely unexpected thing to come across on a ship of criminals but still. This guy was weird.

Maybe a bit sad too, though. His room was cluttered, but mostly by trash. It didn’t seem like he actually had a lot of anything except maybe clothes and makeup. It wasn’t a big room, and Glass— or whoever he really was— still couldn’t fill it.

It was as she contemplated this that she noticed a note left haphazardly on the desk. It was written in elaborate cursive script, but the bottom half of it had been scribbled over till it was no long legible. What she could read, however, was enough to grab her attention.

“Juno, my love—“

She had just put two and two together when she heard the sound of footsteps outside the room.

“We aren’t going to be able to work together like this, Peter,” said a familiar voice through the wall. She recognized Mistah Steel’s distinctive tone.

The response was so cutting she almost couldn’t place it. “We’ll have to figure something out I suppose, because I’ve said I don’t want to discuss it. Goodbye, detective.”

The owner of the second voice— Peter according to the boss, though her mind yelled another name— did not wait around for a response. The door to Mr. Glass’s room slid open and her face stealing suspect slid inside. He let out a tired sigh and rubbed his temples. Then, he saw her.

His eyes were wide, but his voice was calm, albeit a bit strained. “Oh, Mrs. Rita. I wasn’t expecting you... Pardon me, but just how much of that did you hear?”

She gaped at him. “It really is just like Justin and Mika!”

His stolen eyebrows furrowed together. “Excuse me?”

“You’re Mika, ya know from the shows! Except you’re not Mika! And you ain’t whoever that Peter is either!”

“I can’t say I’m following—”

“Hush! You won’t trick me with your face stealin tricks! I ain’t gonna let ya fool the boss either, bub, so don’t even try it! No wonder Mistah Steel’s been so distressed, with you walkin around with his beloved face and stolen love notes!”

At that, the thief seemed to flush as his eyes darted towards the paper on the desk. “I knew I should have gotten rid of that... no matter now, though, I suppose the secret is out. I am still curious about the ‘face stealer’ comment, however.”

Gracious as she was, Rita provided him with an extensive description of Justin and Mika’s tragedy. She was used to the boss being so uncultured, but even for a people eatin trickster it was hard to believe he’d never seen it. Unlike Mistah Steel, however, Fake-Peter listened intently and never even cut in with a sarcastic comment. She had to admit, it was pretty refreshing.

When she’d finished, he regarded her with quiet amusement. “Well. That is very exciting, but I’m afraid the actual story is much less interesting. With the cat out of the bag, though, I might as well enlighten you.”

Rita wished she had brought snacks with her cause Mistah Peter’s story was almost as good as any of her shows. Martian artifacts and death trains, a tragic romance— the drama of it all was too much! But most shocking of all was that everything he said made sense with what the boss had told her about his disappearance the year before.

“Huh. So no face stealers then?”

“I’m afraid not,” he answered.

“Well that’s pretty unfortunate.”

Mr. Peter nodded in solemn agreement, but Rita didn’t intend to let her snooping go to waste. “Well, face stealer or not, you have GOT to tell me where ya got this color” she said, holding up a vial of nail polish she’d come across.

He grinned, apparently happy to brag about his collection. “It’s from earth— made from snake venom they say,” he explained. Then, when he saw her excitement, suggested: “you could try it if you’d like. I happen to be a certified nail technician on six planets.”

She grabbed his wrist and led him to the table, the theif letting out a small yelp as she exclaimed “oh boy I thought you’d never ask! I can show you some of that face stealer show too— I got it downloaded on my comms of course. And I expect more inside secrets on the boss, he drives me crazy with the whole mystery man thing, like jeez Mistah Steel I didn’t know your favorite color was such a sore spot—“

She went on in that manner for about fifteen minutes.

Peter it seemed, was a very good listener. Rita liked that in a person since she considered herself a very good talker.

“Oh dear! He didn’t just— Miss. Rita this is quite the show!”

“I know!!” She exclaimed, grinning. She could get used to this, and by the looks of it, so could Peter.

[asexualsoup]

Okay okay wait... I think I know what happened to Nureyev during What Lies Beyond. Not joking. 

I’ve been relistening to this episode for a while, trying to figure out where the heck he went. He obviously didn’t escape on the Ruby 7 and we know since Tools of Rust that their other car was wrecked beyond use. So he HAD to still be on the Carte Blanche during the interrogations in part two. So where the heck did he go? 

For a while, I’ve just been assuming that he hid in the walls somewhere, like Juno and Dark Matters also assume. But that doesn’t make any sense. We know tech exists that can let you scan for people in a single location (see: Stone Unturned). Dark Matters could have just scanned for some dude hiding in a wall somewhere, but they didn’t find him. 

But then, in What Lies Beyond part two, I found the answer. And it hit me like a punch to the gut... 

Buddy says she saw a Dark Matters agent putting on Agent G’s uniform after their death. 

We all assumed that detail was just there to make Sasha’s Dark Matters sound messy, but what if it’s actually a Nureyev clue? What if that was Nureyev?! We know he has a knack for hiding in plain sight! And it’s not like it’s out of the realm of possibility for him, as he essentially did the same thing on New Kinshasa in Angel of Brahma, both when he and Mag took the guard uniforms AND when he pretended to be a corpse on the floor. 

Hiding in plain sight. Just like Vespa hiding in the wall in Shadows on the Ship. 

THAT’S where he went. 

THAT’S why Dark Matters didn’t find him on the Carte Blanche. 

And that’s also why Nureyev knew when AND how to rescue the crew from prison in Clean Break. He showed up there WITH DARK MATTERS. 

He’s infiltrated them before. He could do it again. 

...long story short, Kabert made a mistake by giving us another week to ruminate on the finale. I’m going conspiracy crazy over here. 

[ernmark]

@alecjmarsh drew a thing and I was so in love with the concept that it turned into a fic. 

Nureyev blue, Juno calls it after a while, because it must be his favorite, at least for the moment. He’s always wearing it-- that steely blue-gray, like the weathered hull of an old spaceship.

And maybe it’s in honor of this rickety old thing, held together with Jet’s elbow grease and Rita’s miraculous code, with duct tape around the edges, just in case. Peter Nureyev may be the Man Without A Home, but this ship is going to be the closest thing they have to a home for a good long while, and that’s worth commemorating.

After a while Juno turns it into a game: find the Nureyev Blue. It’s always there, even if sometimes it takes him a few minutes to find it. Sometimes it shows up in his socks, sometimes in a silk scarf wrapped around that long slender neck, sometimes in a slinky shirt that is more formfitting than should be legal, sometimes in the swirling enamel of his ear cuffs. Once he was sure Nureyev had left the color behind, and then the thief bent over and his low-riding pants revealed the faintest sliver of blue.

He’s even starting to play the game retroactively. Duke Rose had a steel-gray undershirt-- he saw a whole lot of it in Miasma’s dungeon. He can’t remember if Rex Glass ever wore the color, but then, he doesn’t remember looking for it then.

They’re stopped to resupply on Europa-- okay, that’s a lie: the latest installment of Rita’s favorite movie series is having a midnight release, and no force in the galaxy will keep her from attending in costume. But that means they’re docked for a few hours, and they might as well do some shopping.

That’s where Juno spots the sweater: Deltan cashmere, soft as a cloud, with a loose turtleneck and sleeves long enough to cover even Peter’s willowy arms past the fingertips. And best of all, it comes in Nureyev blue.

Juno doesn’t even hesitate. He has to buy it.

He holds onto the purchase for a while afterward, not sure exactly what to do with it. He’s never been great at giving presents-- for a long time, he only really gave people things as an apology, the way his mom had bribed him with mountains of swindled Turbo merchandise, or to get them out of trouble, like he did for Mick. And sure, Rita technically got birthday presents from him, but really she was just buying things for herself with his credit card and called it a gift.

He’s got half a mind to just put it in Peter’s bunk without a note and let him figure out who it’s from, but he can’t tell right now if that would be even more awkward.

Eventually he decides to bite the laser and just do it. He’s got to figure this out sooner or later, right? But that doesn’t stop the anxiety that comes shooting through his veins when he knocks on the door of Peter’s bunk.

“Hey,” he says, regretting this already. “You got a minute?”

The door sweeps open, and Peter’s leaning against a wall in a pose that he must have stolen from the Vixen Valley-- it’s the perfect combination of aloof and alluring. “Hello, Juno.”

“Hey,” he says again. They’ve been travelling together for weeks now. That’s plenty of time to figure out how to hold a conversation. “I know you keep saying Jet turns the heat down too low. So...” He thrusts the bag at Nureyev. The paper and tissue is crumpled and a lot less elegant after days of handling it and stuffing it under his bunk so he doesn’t have to look at it. The sight of it is enough to make him wish a tiny black hole would open up under his feet right now and swallow him whole. “I got that for you.”

Nureyev flashes a smile. “You shouldn’t have.” And right then, Juno can’t tell whether or not he’s being serious, and it’s doing really uncomfortable things to his blood pressure.

“I-- uh-- I didn’t know what color you would want,” Juno says, babbling so fast that he doesn’t have time to think about how vulnerable he’s feeling. “But I’ve seen you wear that color a lot, so I thought it was probably a safe bet.”

“You noticed that, did you?” Peter asks, oddly self-deprecating. There’s a joke here, and it’s at Peter’s expense, but Juno doesn’t get it.

“It looks good on you,” he says. Sincerity leaves his voice a little bit raw. “But then, everything looks good on you.” He’s trying to keep his expression calm, but panic drives his pulse into a rattle. He fucked up-- he doesn’t know how, but he did-- and it’s not even like he can offer to take it back and exchange it, because he spent so much time worrying about this that Europa and the market are long gone.

“I promise, I am trying to give you your space,” Peter says gently. “But sometimes I can’t help myself.” His expression shifts as he lifts the sweater from the bag, his smile as soft and warm as the cashmere under his fingertips. “I love the color of your eye.”