Working the Graveyard Shift

By Dormouse


Two years after the events in 'Weapon' Avon has it all: penthouse flat, respectable post at the University of Arcos, not so respectable boyfriend, then Blake asks him to do one last job...


I've written a few Avon/Travis stories in my time, and the serious ones never end happily. So I thought 'what if the pair of them did decide they were better off without Blake?' Then, of course, I had to give them something to do and what started as a short story ended up reworking most of Series Two. I like writing action so there's a fair bit of that and I like minor characters so you get plenty of them too. Manna kindly let me borrow her Toreth again in spite of what happened to him the last time he appeared in one of my stories. And yes there's sex but if that's what you're looking for then you'd be infinitely better off spending your money elsewhere.


So, a few brief extracts:


"Well, well, well," Avon said as Blake and Jenna materialised in front of him. "I had wondered when you would bother to look me up, but I did hope you would have the courtesy to call ahead. "As you can see," he gestured at the box-files piled haphazardly, but presumably in a completely logical order, around his office, "I have rather a lot of work on at the moment. Or did you automatically assume that if I knew you were coming -"

"We know you have no intention of betraying me to the Federation," said Blake ("well some of us do," Jenna muttered), "but I was unsure if you would be willing to talk to me after all this time. I have a business proposition for you."

Now that last got his attention. Obviously he had not entirely committed himself to academia since they had seen him last.

"I will be a lot more willing to talk," Avon sat down at his immaculately tidy desk, "after I have finished marking these papers. Or I could perhaps spare a few hours tonight. Over dinner for example. If you would like to come to the flat tonight... I assume you have that address also?"

Of course we do, Jenna thought. Just surprised you'd actually invite us round.


"You're going to do it, aren't you?" Travis closed the dishwasher and stood upright.

"I hadn't decided yet. But it is rather tempting."

"Don't lie to me, Avon. Blake shows up and you're just putty in his hands. It doesn't matter what I say, you'll go ahead with it anyway."

"I said I was going to think about it and I meant exactly that. And I obviously value your opinion."

"Central Control's a myth," Travis said. "Gives the resistors something to focus on so they don't go trying anything more efficient. Killing High Council members for example."

Avon gave an appreciative half-smile.

"Sometimes I wonder whose side you are - or were ever - really on."

"My own, simple as that. And yours, when it doesn't go against mine. I'm not supporting you this time. If you go looking for Central Control with Blake then don't expect any help from me."

"The money he's offering means nothing to you?"

"Money? Haven't we got plenty of that already?" Travis gestured around the kitchen. "Isn't all this enough for you?"

"Maybe. But there's more to having money than the acquisition of material possessions. Security for example. Both of us still have considerable prices on our heads."


Mere seconds elapsed between the instant Par exited the warehouse and the eruption of laser-fire outside. Travis grabbed Avon's arm and pulled him down behind the crate, covering their only exit with his pararifle.

"Military Police?" Avon whispered.

"Be surprised," Travis muttered grimly. MPs on Mars had always been a bit of a joke, most of them on the take one way or another. No, whoever was outside would be more likely after them for the bounty than after Par for his scams

"Now what?"

Travis unwrapped the sacking from the second pararifle, set it to semi-automatic mode and handed it to Avon.

"We see if these are as good as Par said they were."




Available from Judith's B7 Site and Knightwriter or from me in person if you don't run away fast enough.


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