The moment Radcliffe’s lips pressed against his again, Hawkins felt the intensity of their past come flooding back. Though he had just insulted him, Hawkins knew he had to pull Radcliffe close to him for his mission to be achievable. He mirrored the affection that he could feel from Radcliffe. It was like they had picked up right where they left off, passion sparking and growing as if nothing had changed. As the music pulsed around them, they moved to the rhythm, bodies pressed close, their whispered words nearly drowned out by the bass reverberating through the lavishly decorated ballroom. The dark greens and deep blues of Hawkins’s Tholian silk shirt shimmered in the lights, its near-translucent material clinging to his body, catching Radcliffe’s appreciative gaze more than once as they swayed together.

Radcliffe leaned in, his lips brushing Hawkins’ ear. “I heard you’ve recently left Starfleet,” he murmured, sounding almost uncertain. “You, of all people. I thought you would live and die in that uniform.”

Hawkins felt a pang of nostalgia but forced himself to keep it at bay. With a practised grin, he shot back, “You left to make a life for yourself, Orlando. Why can’t I do the same?” He took a breath, adding, “I inherited a fortune and joined the Collector’s Guild.” His tone was casual and calculated. “I’m here on Xandaria to expand my collection and maybe even add a few special items. Perhaps find some items that I lost a few years ago.”

Radcliffe chuckled, his eyes glinting with something Hawkins couldn’t quite place. “You? In the Collector’s Guild?” He pulled Hawkins a little closer, voice dropping as he teased, “Sounds suspiciously like a cover story. Are you sure you’re not a Starfleet spy? I’m not going to bump into McPherson at some point?”

Hawkins’s jaw tightened, and he let out a dismissive laugh, playing into the role he needed Radcliffe to believe. “Come on, Orlando. I gave that life up years ago. It was around the time you left me and Starfleet.” His voice grew softer, feigning a hint of sadness. “We were a team once. But that team broke, didn’t it?” He knew he had to play on Radcliffe’s heartstrings to gain his trust. If he could play on this, then it would be a calculated risk in trying to bring Radcliffe under his influence. Hawkins knew that if he pushed too hard, Radcliffe would put his shields up and stop him from getting close. He needed to make sure he played a balanced game here. Playing on the raw passion of their reunion. It needed to be in that moment he played on. He had to show off the excitement required to prove to Radcliffe that he still had feelings for him and wanted him back. Sadly, Hawkins knew that most of that was true, and he could hear the voices of Parin, Levy and Sturok in the back of his head, advising him to be careful.  

Radcliffe’s gaze softened, his hands slipping down Hawkins’s waist. Holding him close, Hawkins felt that Radcliffe didn’t want to let him go. He was going to make sure that was the case now. “Maybe we could be a team again.” Radcliffe’s words were half-flirtatious, half-earnest, igniting the romantic undertones in the air. “Just in a different way.” He drew Hawkins closer, swaying them both to the beat. He kissed Hawkins’ cheek softly as he softly ran his hands through Hawkins’ hair.

Hawkins let himself be pulled in, the thrill of Radcliffe’s interest feeding his purpose here. This was working. As they continued to dance closely, their bodies perfectly in sync, Hawkins felt his old flame’s resistance fading, and he knew he was edging closer to earning his trust once more. 

“Why don’t I get us some drinks?” Hawkins offered, pulling back slightly and catching his breath. They had been dancing for some time now, being close, just the two of them and not bothered by others around them. 

Radcliffe nodded, flashing him a devilish smile. “I’ll be here.”

He made his way to the bar, ordering two Aldebaran whiskeys. As he waited, his gaze travelled over the gala scene—the dancers on their platforms, the opulent décor, the sultry glances cast his way from guests and waitstaff alike. It was a den of glamour, veiled danger, and hidden alliances. This was a perfect moment to take a moment, to breathe and to reset himself so he could evaluate where he was at making inroads with Radcliffe. As he waited for their drinks, he wondered how close he needed to gain his trust. 

Just as the bartender handed him the drinks, a voice from his left caught him off guard. “You seem to be having quite the night,” a woman remarked smoothly.

Hawkins turned to find himself face-to-face with a striking Romulan woman, her gaze sharp and perceptive. “Do I?” he replied, raising an eyebrow, keeping his tone polite but curious.

“I’d be careful about getting too cosy,” she murmured, her voice low and laced with warning. “Your dance partner, he’s the right-hand man of Briasyraa.” She took a slow sip from her glass, watching his reaction.

Hawkins kept his expression neutral. “And why would that be a problem?”

She smirked, glancing over her glass. “Because Briasyraa’s the most powerful person on Xandaria. Crossing paths with her or anyone close to her is a choice you’ll want to make carefully.” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she scanned the room, clearly aware of every subtle movement and glance.

At that moment, Radcliffe appeared beside Hawkins, his hands sliding comfortably around Hawkins’s chest, possessive and unmistakably intimate. “Oh, I see you’ve met Torvak,” he said, noticing the Romulan woman. His tone was casual, but there was a slight edge to it.

Hawkins smiled at her. “We were just introducing ourselves,” he replied smoothly as he passed Radcliffe his drink.

Torvak returned his smile, though her eyes stayed on Radcliffe a beat longer. “Orlando here is quite the pilot,” she commented, a hint of irony in her voice. “He’s been helping me find my footing on Xandaria.”

Radcliffe chuckled, playfully nipping Hawkins’s earlobe as he whispered, “You’re lucky she doesn’t bite.”

Torvak cleared her throat, her expression suddenly blank as a small group of Orions approached. In the middle stood an Orion woman, taller than most. Her dark emerald skin glistened under the gala lights, and she was adorned in glittering jewellery and a gown that spoke of power and wealth. She cast a scrutinising gaze over Radcliffe before landing on Hawkins with a raised eyebrow.

“Orlando, my dear,” she began, voice rich and commanding, “are you going to introduce me to the man you seem so…intimately acquainted with at my gala?” Her tone was laced with a subtle threat, adding to the tension in the air.

Radcliffe cleared his throat, stepping aside just enough to gesture toward Hawkins. “Briasyraa, this is Tom Hawkins. He’s recently joined the Collector’s Guild and is here to expand his fortune.” He shot Hawkins a proud smile as though thrilled to be introducing him. “He was my fiancé.” 

Briasyraa’s lips curved into a slight smile. “Intriguing. I haven’t seen you take to anyone like this, Orlando.” She extended a perfectly manicured hand toward Hawkins. “A pleasure.”

Hawkins took her hand respectfully, forcing a faint blush as he met her piercing gaze. “The pleasure is mine,” he replied, humble yet confident. “I’m honoured to be here, and I’ve heard you have a collection that would make anyone envious.”

Briasyraa gave him a calculating nod. “Perhaps, when I know you’re trustworthy, I might give you a glimpse.” She glanced toward Radcliffe. “Ensure that your new, or shall I say, old flame finds his way around…appropriately.” With a pointed look, she gestured for Radcliffe to follow her, and he reluctantly released Hawkins.

Radcliffe glanced back as he trailed after Briasyraa, mouthing a quick “be right back” before disappearing into the crowd with her.

Left alone with Torvak once more, Hawkins took a deep breath, feeling the buzz of excitement at how close he was getting to his target. Torvak raised an eyebrow at him. “You move quickly, Tom,” she observed, sounding impressed. “But be careful. Briasyraa doesn’t forgive mistakes.”

“Noted,” he replied quietly.

With a smirk, she left him at the bar just as Radcliffe returned, looking both relieved and pleased. Hawkins took his partner’s satisfied grin and asked, “Everything alright?”

Radcliffe nodded. “Just business.” He leaned in closer, eyes gleaming. “Come on, let’s get out of here. There’s a place we can catch up in private.”

Hawkins nodded, letting Radcliffe lead him from the bustling gala. They moved through a series of grand, winding corridors, Radcliffe’s hand lingering possessively on his waist. When they stepped into a glass-walled turbolift, Radcliffe pressed him back against the glass, his lips finding Hawkins’s once again in a fierce kiss. Hawkins indulged him, even as he kept a careful eye on the areas they passed by—the secure rooms, guards, and ornate doors that marked Briasyraa’s inner operations. He was finally at the heart of everything. He had got lucky with what was around him. He knew that, somehow, he would need to find out more about this place. 

Finally, Hawkins noticed a heavily guarded hallway branching off below them. He broke away from the kiss long enough to ask, “What’s down there? Should I be worried about where you’re leading me, Orlando?”

Radcliffe pulled back, slightly breathless, a hint of suspicion flickering across his face. “Just Briasyraa’s… ‘safe,’” he replied vaguely. “Nothing you need to worry about. You really need to drop some of those old spy traits. Just enjoy this. Enjoy us.”

Hawkins gave a soft nod, mentally marking the location before kissing Radcliffe back. They exited the lift, Radcliffe leading him to a spacious private suite. 

Radcliffe’s suite was nothing short of luxury and indulgence. The main room was large, dimly lit by soft, warm lights embedded in the walls, casting a golden glow over everything. Everything around the room shared the same rich style that was apparent in the main hall where the gala was taking place. Elaborate curtains, patterned with swirling designs, draped from floor to ceiling, framing a wide, floor-to-ceiling window that showcased a breathtaking view of Xandaria’s sparkling skyline. 

The walls were adorned with rare artefacts—a mix of Orion and Romulan treasures. A bar cart gleamed in one corner, stocked with exotic spirits in crystal decanters. Behind it, a holographic fireplace cast a gentle flicker, adding to the room’s seductive allure. 

As they crossed the suite, Radcliffe paused only to strip off his shirt, tossing it aside with a grin hinting at the night ahead. The cheeky grin he always had reappeared as he looked at Hawkins. His gaze lingered on Hawkins, who started to pull his own shirt off, with a smouldering intensity before he took his hand, guiding him toward the bedroom. A bed dressed in dark satin and silk awaited them, its deep green tones blending seamlessly with the lavish atmosphere of the suite.

The night passed in a blur of passion, the familiarity of Radcliffe’s touch both comforting and thrilling. As Radcliffe eventually drifted off to sleep, Hawkins lay beside him, his mind racing.

Radcliffe’s closeness was both a blessing and a challenge. He would need to maintain the charade and keep Radcliffe at his side while navigating Briasyraa’s dangerous world. But tonight, Hawkins had learned something critical: the location of Briasyraa’s “safe,” the very heart of her operations. And now, he knew exactly where he needed to strike. Hawkins looked back at Radcliffe and wondered as he lay there, sleeping peacefully, could he be saved from all of this? Hawkins’ heart pleaded with him to try while his mind told him to push that idea aside. Instead, he snuggled in closer to Radcliffe and breathed deeply as he placed his arm over his chest; he could immediately smell the same smell he knew belonged to him. At that moment, Hawkins felt comfortable and smiled as he closed his eyes.