The Bazaar, Take 2

[tommyboybbi.livejournal.com]

Title: The Bazaar take two
Fandom: Sahara (movie)
Prompt: 1 pickpocket
Warnings: none
Rating: Gen . for all audiences
Summary: New fandom to play with. Based on the movie (not the book and the long Cussler series) Sahara. Dirk Pitt and Al Giordino are retired SEALS navy men, working under retired Admiral Sandecker for NUMA, the National Underwater Marine Agency.

 

Take two: wonder if this is kosher here, but lil_gal made some points so I'm answering that and found that I unknowingly picked up on someone's story line and they were not impressed by it. So alas. I'm going to try again and write a story with Dirk and Al and a pick pocket.

 

"Come on Al. An afternoon searching the bazaar, finding a gift to send that girl you left pining for you headquarters." Dirk was getting dressed for shore leave.

 

I wasn't that impressed. I was still debating about staying on board and getting some sleep before hitting the open seas or looking over the large wenches we had on board.

 

"And don't start thinking about checking out the Countessa. She's going to work fine when we get started working out there. Come on Al, relax."

 

"Easy for you to say." It was easy for him to say. He went about life like nothing is wrong and I watch his back before someone puts a knife in it.

 

He looks at me, giving me that smile of his. I'm falling for it. He's bouncing a little, waiting for me to give in.

 

"Come on Al, I'll treat you to a long lunch at the café of you choice."

 

Bingo, he wins, he mentioned food. "Give me a few minutes to get ready."

 

"I'll go top side and tell Rudi we're going out."  He claps me on the back as he heads out.

 

I watch as he leaves our cabin, happy that he convinced me to go, like that was a no brainer.

 

I open the drawer with my shorts in it and start getting dressed.

 

** **

 

I lag behind, letting him do the talking. He is the language man of the group. I think by the time we left the SEALs he was up to six in fluency and two that he can follow the conversation in.

 

He stops at kiosk that is selling books. He touches one then another reading the spins. I glance down seeing half are in Arabic. Dirk finds one and picks it up and opens it.

 

"Anything special?" I ask. 

 

"Arabian Nights." He starts consulting with the seller and they barter the price, going back and forth for a few minutes.

 

I wander away to the next booth as Dirk takes out his wallet and pays for the book.  He puts his wallet away and turns to look for me.

 

It took a split second. First Dirk is looking at me, then he reaches down to grab something at his side.  I see a hand then a wrist.  Pulling the owner of the wrist around to stand in front of him, he was holding a boy.

 

I came up behind the boy to see what was happening.

 

The young man, no more than twelve, was looking at Dirk. Dirk was holding the boy's wrist with some pressure, enough to cause some pain and hold him but not enough to really hurt him. Unless the boy moved, he would be fine for the moment.

 

Dirk looked at the boy, knowing that for some, this was a way a life, a way of the streets in major ports. By the looks of the boy, he had little. He was not clean, and he looked a bit under nourished.

 

I listen to the boy as he talking to Dirk, who is replying in a commanding in voice.

 

After a minute, Dirk pulls out two currency coins from his pocket and hands them to the boy then let him go.

 

I watch as the street urchin goes into the crowd, losing him quickly.

 

I turn to Dirk who was putting his wallet inside his shirt to stave off a repeat performance.

 

"It seems I have a mark on my back that says 'try me'," Dirk remark.

 

I laugh at him. "Well easy going that you are, you seem to have your interests in what's around you, not where your wallet is."   I start thinking how many times someone had tried to pull this on him. "This makes six right?"

 

"Seven, you weren't with me in the subway."

 

"Bold move," I say. "So where's lunch? You promised me food."

 

Dirk laughs at me. "I did, didn't I? Come on partner, let's go feed that stomach of yours."