Fine Print

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

It had been a month since he'd turned in his two week's notice, as the Yanks say. He'd wondered about how that would go. To his shock, it was about like any other job he'd taken. Collect back pay, debrief, and piss off. For his trouble, working as a shit-kicker for Praetorian had netted him a cool quarter million, of which he still hung onto maybe 120k.

Why was he living in his car, then? Sleeping on a duffel bag of cash with a Glock stuffed haphazardly in it? Maybe he'd gone bossies. It was a distinct possibility. Either from all the shit he'd seen or from the drugs or both.

Maybe he ought to piss off to the old country and buy a nice plot in the Transvaal? Live out some sort of naive fantasy that he was some man of the earth? Those days were done. ZA wasn't ZA, not the way he remembered it at least. He knew he'd be right back to square one, in a shittier car, watching his six and even more ready to gun it out with somebody looking at him wrong.

With a grunt, Jan sat up in his reclined driver's seat, cinching it upright as he turned the key in the ignition. He had to cop up to what was eating at him. Whatever he'd signed up for at Praetorian, he didn't want it anymore. How did he fix that? He had no idea. But he knew who might.

Jan shifted the car into drive, and pulled out onto the interstate, and began to head for Rendecion House.

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

He arrived to the house, circling around the subdivision a few times to make sure that he wasn't tailed. His old bosses he wasn't worried about because he was pretty sure they'd already know he was here if they cared to look. When you're carrying that much cash, you check your six for carjackers as a habit as fluid as breathing.

At last assured that he wasn't bringing any trouble on him or his potential sanctuary, he climbed out of the car, shouldering the duffel as he did. He wasted no time in heading to the door to give it a couple of quick raps.

[Jamie Morrigan]

Jamie looked around from her burrow in a pile of throw pillows on the couch. Nobody else seemed to be downstairs. She thought Aidan was out back, and Anna was in the bathroom or something... she always was in the bathroom these days. "Is anyone gonna get that?" she yelled.

The echoes died away, and she didn't hear any feet pounding from upstairs or scurrying from the kitchen. Swallowing her apprehension, she slid off the couch, not even bothering to mute Phineas and Ferb, and padded quietly to the front door to see who was there.

Standing on tiptoes, she peered through the peephole and saw what looked like a huge, tough-looking guy in shades and carrying a bulky bag that could've held guns or bombs or body parts. Anna had told her time and time again she was never ever supposed to answer the door alone, but this guy looked like he meant business, and she was afraid what might happen if he got impatient...

She quickly brainstormed up somebody tough enough not to be intimidated by the stranger before she opened the door. And that was why the image of Dwayne Johnson towered over Jan at the front door of Redención House. Leaning on the door jamb and arching one eyebrow wildly, he asked, "Can I help you?"

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

The famous celebrity doppelganger was lost on Jan, else he might have been a bit more suspicious. As it stood, he more or less expected somebody imposing to be manning the door at a place like this. It paid to put on a front.

"Looking for Anna Fernandez."

He adjusted the tote on his shoulder as he shifted weight on his feet.

"I need help."

[Jamie Morrigan]

Dwayne's eyebrows came together in uncertainty. "Anna can't come to the door right now. Um... what do you need help with?"

Jamie very cautiously peeked around Dwayne's waist to see the stranger for herself through the gap in the door.

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

"Eish..."

Jan muttered under his breath, not really wanting to sort out his personal issues with the door bouncer.

"I'm gefok, bru. I'm sick. Where's the head lady? Got business to talk."

[Jamie Morrigan]

Jamie had no idea what gefok-bru was, but it sounded serious, and Dwayne Johnson appeared to agree, because he now looked very concerned for the poor man. "Wait right there, I'll get her," he said, and he turned and walked back down the dining room hallway.

Jamie belatedly realize she'd still been looking around Dwayne's waist, and as he turned away from the door he'd walked right through her, and now she was standing completely exposed to the stranger. Wide-eyed, she pushed the door shut and stepped back.

Dwayne, meanwhile, lumbered into the kitchen. Because Jamie couldn't see that far, he couldn't interact with anyone, and he just announced to the room at large: "There's a bald man on the front porch who says he's sick, and he's looking for Anna."

He looked around, and, realizing there was nothing else for him to do, evaporated into a mist of golden light.

[Anna Fernandez]

Anna nearly dropped her pen at the sight of the Rock in her kitchen, and then did drop it, folding it into the center of her checkbook and shoving the whole mess of receipts into a drawer. "Jamie!" She hurried down the hallway, barefoot, in a new pair of maternity capris and tied back tank top that barely showed off her new curves, and looked questioningly at her foster daughter.

The girl nodded and gestured silently at the door before jumping onto the sofa where she could peek over and monitor the situation. No doubt with the Rock handy in case things got out of hand. Anna had to smile at her antics, but smoothed her face before opening the door.

She did not recognize the man standing there, but he looked hard, like someone who'd seen too much.

"I am Anna Fernandez," she said. "What is it I can do for you?"

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

Jan smiled at the error in the girl's sleight of hand, finally understanding what had happened to some degree. The little prankster pulled a pretty convincing con.

When Anna finally came to the door and introduced herself, Jan nodded.

"I know who you are, bokkie. I was paid to know."

There wasn't any sense in tip-toeing around the issue.

"I used to work for Praetorian. Can I come in?"

[Anna Fernandez]

She stared at him a bit, blinking as she parsed his words. Praetorian was familiar - from the news. Some sort of private military corporation, running missions in Iraq and other places. Specialized in dealing with mutants.

Dealing with. In combat. Neutralizing them. To death.

Anna took in a deep breath, searching the man's eyes. He seemed tired... a bone weariness that was more than mere exhaustion. "Of course, come in." She popped the screen door open, allowing the man into the house, and directed him to the living room just to the side of the foyer.

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

Jan entered, still clutching his duffel close as he followed Anna's instructions. He gave one last look outside, as if expecting bad company coming at the last minute and then moved to sit on a well-worn loveseat.

"I appreciate the hospitality. I know what kind of reputation my old baas has, and I know it's not the sort to be welcomed by your people."

[Anna Fernandez]

Anna saw Jamie still staring, and said quietly, but firmly, "Go out back and get Aidan." The girl nodded and darted out of the room.

She perched on the edge of one of the couches, and asked, "What is your name, and why have you come here?"

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

"Jan du Toit."

That was the easy question. The other one caused him to shift in his seat.

"As for the rest, bokkie, I'm figuring that as I go. Best to start from the top. Doesn't much surprise you that I do what I do for the money. Been in that business since you were little."

Jan sighed, running a hand over his forehead.

"But this? Lekker money. More than any gig I've pulled, and I've been everywhere. Everyone lined up to pay for our work, and I worked with a talented crew."

He paused and met her eyes.

"But talent only accounts for so much against muties, ja? We got a little, uh, pharmaceutical edge."

[Anna Fernandez]

He was using words she'd never heard before, but his accent seemed familiar, like maybe she had heard it in a movie. The last bit, however, got her attention, even as her skin crawled at the thought of this man murdering mutants.

"Pharmeceuticals?" Anna raised an eyebrow, growing more nervous. Did she really let a crazed, drug addicted mutant killer into her home? She tried to surreptitiously look down the hall to see if Aidan was coming inside yet.

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

"Gene therapy."

For emphasis, Jan tapped two fingers into the crook of his arm, showing where the faintest hint of an IV track remained.

"Basic reprogramming courtesy of Jericho, know of them?"

The way Jan said the name, he seemed to spit it.

"Your tax dollars at work, bokkie. I run a ninety second mile, can bench press a ton, and..."

He gave a sniff.

"The oranges on your kitchen table will go off in two days, I calculate."

None of it seemed to come off as a gloat by any means. He put it matter-of-factly and if anything, it seemed accentuate the look of disgust on his face.

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan stepped into the living room from the kitchen hallway, eyes locked on to Jan with a singular focus. He found a seat catercorner to Anna with Jan in between them and sank into the cushion, showing no qualms for having walked into the middle of a conversation.

"I've heard of that sort of thing," he said. "Basic physical and mental enhancements. Sorry, I'm Aidan. Aidan Fox."

He reached out a hand to Jan, a perfunctory gesture. This was a far cry from welcoming in another disenfranchised mutant.

[Anna Fernandez]

Anna relaxed a little as Aidan entered the room, but Jan's description of his Jericho given abilities had done little to comfort her. "I am familiar with Jericho... but I am still not sure what we, here, can do for you."

She ran a hand through her long brown hair, and added, "Are you looking for a place to stay..?"

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

Jan returned Aidan's greeting with a curt nod, and returned his attention to Anna.

"I'm looking for a cure. I want whatever this is out of me. Not exactly the sort of thing I can take to a family doctor, is it?"

[Anna Fernandez]

She stared at him a little blankly. "I think you have been misinformed, Mr. du Toit. I do not have... that is..." Anna looked at Aidan, hoping maybe he could jump in with something helpful. "Why not go back to Jericho? Surely they are equipped for something like that."

Maybe they would keep him locked up there for observation. Forever. She was feeling more uncomfortable by the minute, with his intense gaze on her.

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan leaned, elbows on knees, with his fingers steepled together. "This is a safehouse for mutant youths," he said. "People don't come here to be cured."

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

Which was, Jan had to admit, a fair point. Still, he wasn't going to Jericho.

"I've seen the man from Jericho, enough to know that they won't do kak for me about this, save for put pieces of me in a jar, bokkie. Their baas doc is a doos, they don't give a damn about anything save their own research."

He sighed, steepling his fingers together. He was fast running out of options.

"If not here, then where? Does everyone with mutation embrace it?"

[Aidan Fox]

"Do you embrace being human, Mr. du Toit?" Aidan asked pointedly. "Mutation isn't something you cure, it's something you are. If you want to be rid of your enhancements, why don't you buy yourself a suppression collar? That's normally your people's MO, isn't it?"

[Tycho Auriville]

Damn staple guns that had autocorrects and stupid, flimsy tar paper that didn't stay still and the sun's blinding angle at this hour in the morning and Dunkin' Donuts for making the weakest coffee this side of the Mason-Dixon line. Wouldn't have kept even a freaking three-month-old infant awake and now he was bleeding all over the place and why didn't he have any bandages on him?

Grumbling, Tycho kicked off his boots and pushed through the back door. He held his right hand up against his chest, hoping the elevation and the pressure against his shirt would stop the bleeding until he could slap a Band-Aid on it.

"Anna, you got any - " the request trailed off and Tycho stopped short. He stared at Jan with studious surprise, then seemed to snap back into himself and glanced from Aidan to Anna. "Oh. Sorry. I... didn't know you had a visitor."

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

"I got no dog in this hunt bru, I did my turns for the retirement money. Course, they don't tell Jan about the nosebleeds, the seizures, all the fine print, do they? If a suppression collar fixed that, you think I'd be having this fokken conversation?"

A restless leg bounced up and down faintly.

"I'm not myself. My head feels like it's comin' apart and I dop enough whisky to kill a horse when that comes on, just to hear myself think. What's pride in that, boy? I got no pride."

The sound of another voice caused Jan's head to turn, and a dawning look of realization hit him.

"Ain't that a small fokken world."

[Anna Fernandez]

Anna felt almost indignant that this man would come to her house asking such a thing. Mutants weren't given a choice when they were 'enhanced', they learned to live with their powers and often ones with even worse side effects than a migraine. Jake for instance - he was better at hiding them now, but as a boy he'd often spent his nights moaning and crying under the influence of one horrific vision after another. He didn't choose that, but she knew he wouldn't look for a cure, either.

And this mercenary had asked for powers, used them to hunt and kill other mutants, and now he wanted them gone? Well. Wasn't that just precioso.

Anna jerked her head up at the sound of Tycho's voice. Her brain registered the exchange between him and Jan, but her body was already pushing up from the couch at the sight of blood. "Oh my goodness, let me get something for that, Ty."

She hurried over to him, expertly assessed the wound as only someone well versed in teenage mishaps could, and made him sit on the couch. "I will be right back." Anna walked briskly down the hall to the bathroom where there was a first aid kit under the sink, retrieving it and popping it open. She pulled out a large Band-Aid and some neosporin, and made her way back to the living room.

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan couldn't miss the sudden line of tension between Jan and Tycho, the way you couldn't miss electricity arcing between two live wires. "Do you two know each other?"

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

Jan quickly shrugged it off, not willing to put a fine point on Tycho's powers if that genie hadn't come out of the lamp already.

"We've crossed paths a bit when he was turnin' a construction gig. Nothing special."

[Tycho Auriville]

"Bit more than that, maybe." Tycho added simply, wiping the welling blood on his hand onto his shirt. He spent a little more time than was necessary, inspecting the jagged tears with a flat gaze. It wasn't really that bad.

When he lifted his face to look at Jan there was a thoughtful weight in his eyes, warm but not friendly. "How are you, man - how's Harry?"

[Anna Fernandez]

"Here, here," Anna said, sitting next to Tycho on the couch and taking his hand to inspect the bleeding finger. It wasn't too bad, but a band-aid wouldn't hurt it. She internally tsked at the sight of where he'd wiped the blood on his shirt, and tore open the band-aid, putting a bit of neosporin on the pad and expertly wrapping the wound.

Crumpling the discarded wrapping in her hand, she gave him a smile, and sat back on the couch, an appropriate distance between them, and turned her gaze back to the stranger in the room, her eyes cooling significantly.

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

"The ou ballie? Harry's Harry. I'm sure you know how that is."

He tried to read a little between the lines.

"Don't figure you've changed your mind much over our little chat about meetin' him? Doesn't confront me either way, I'm not gettin paid over it."

[Tycho Auriville]

Tycho smiled faintly down at his hand - the bandage hardly necessary, but a comforting spot to fix his gaze on all the same. His shoulders jerked sharply in a shrug.

"Harry's Harry," he repeated. "Sure if he wants a reunion it'll happen sooner or later, so there isn't much point in my initiating one. But hey, like you said: no skin off your nose. Free agent now, huh?"

[Jan Claasen du Toit]

"Assuming there's a market."

For a brief moment, Jan flashed a bit of confidence. The smile was fake, but he hammed it up. Then just as quickly, it dimmed.

"I'm an old domkop with too many miles and a nice medical condition on account of occupational hazards. I'd retire if I could afford it, but I can't. If I can't eat a pill down the line to keep my head in check, I know I can eat a bullet, ne?"

[Anna Fernandez]

Anna looked across at Aidan and raised her eyebrows as if to say, Are you following this?

[Aidan Fox]

There wasn't much Aidan could glean from the rapid exchange between Tycho and Jan, but he could read a few messages between the lines - that Tycho had a past that included someone like Jan, for one thing, as well as people Tycho wasn't willing to describe by more than a first name in present company. Aidan, of all people, could respect a man's desire for privacy, but he knew his own demons too well not to suspect someone else's.

"Mr. du Toit was just telling us about his medical problems," Aidan said, turning a pointed look toward Tycho. "I don't suppose you've got a folk remedy for a bad case of gene therapy gone wrong?"