Authors Note: This has been bothering me for awhile. It's combination, of the book, The Club Dumas and the movie that was made about it, Johnny Depp's The Ninth Gate. In case your confused, Lucas and Dean are cousins(although they're in respect the same character)


Lucas Corso slammed the door to his apartment and turned on the light, looking around his apartment with disdain. He was restless, to say the least. He needed a change. Like La Ponte said, a difference of scenery. Things hadn't been the same for him since the Nine Doors job. Not the Club Dumas bothered him. Hell, occasionally, he'd meet with Balkan, to authenticate a Dumas book, or play chess and the two shared a secret grin. But the Nine Doors of the Shadow Kingdom had left a bad taste in his mouth.

He'd been contemplating something he never thought he'd do again. He was contemplating, contacting his cousin, the last of his living family. A one Dean Corso. Who was also in the rare books business. It would be...interesting to say the least if he did. But the way Lucas figured it, he had nothing to lose.

Dropping his bag in the chair by the door, he turned the locks and shrugged out of his coat, dropping it over the canvas bag that contained most of his precious possessions. He headed towards the kitchen, grabbing a tumbler from the cabinet and the bottle of Bols gin from the back of the counter, pouring a sloppy drink. He took a long gulp and sit the glass down, taking a crumpled cigarette from his pocket and lightening.

One of two of his phones was sitting on the kitchen counter and Lucas stared at it for a long moment. Sighing, he moved over to it, and picked it up. His fingers lingered on the numbers and he swallowed back his own pride. It wouldn't be pretty. He and Dean had parted on bitter terms. In fact, Dean was probably likely to tell him to go to hell.

Lucas smirked. That would only make him a hypocrite. If anything, Lucas had kept up with Dean's career and knew his younger cousin's dirty little secret. He was have tempted to use it against him, but one fact remained. Dean WAS the only family Lucas had left alive. Why end it so damned hard, things were already bad, no need to make them blacker. So with a breath, he dailed the number. He waited silently as the phone rang, counting them.


Dean fell back against the wall, grabbing the phone as he looked over his shoulder at the red head in the other room. He fought down his grin, before answering, but the way she was looking at him, only made him grin more.

"Corso." He answered.

"Ditto." The voice on the other end said.

Dean lost his grin completely and growled in reply. "Lucas."

"Evening, Dean." Lucas said on his end. "Actually, I suppose it's afternoon for you."

"What the fuck do you want?" Dean growled.

"Oh, just checking to see if you're still alive and kicking." Lucas replied. "Which I suppose you are, if you're on the phone. Much better after your trip down south."

Dean turned from the bedroom doorway, gripping the phone in a tight hold. "What the fuck would you know of that?" He demanded.

"You'd be surprised." Lucas replied dryly as he stared out his kitchen window.

"What's the purpose of this call?" Dean asked, the angry tone still to his voice.

Lucas was silent a long moment, contemplating his answer. "You do realize, that we're the only family each other has, right?" He asked.

"Sadly, I haven't forgotten!" Dean replied.

"Right, well in case you haven't figured it out. I might as well, stay in some what contact with you."

Dean sighed, irritably. "You couldn't just leave me alone?"

"To much has happened, in BOTH our lives to just drop off the face of the earth from eachother." Lucas replied with a hard tone.

"And what would you know about living!" Dean hissed back.

"What would you?" Lucas snapped. Dean shut his mouth. Lucas didn't need to know about what Dean had. He'd ruined it before.

"Look," Lucas said. "I'll be in New York next week. We might as well meet up for coffee."

Dean shook his head. He didn't know what made him say it, but Lucas was right, to much HAD happened to Dean. "Fine, call when you get here. Good bye Lucas." He hung up before Lucas could say anything else.

"Dean?" A soft British voice asked from the bed room. Dean turned into the door way, leaning against the frame. For a long moment, he looked at her. Nearly four years it took to get them together. Two of which he spent in hell, every agonizing moment thinking of her. And she'd been his assistant before it all happened. Dean snorted silently, glancing heaven ward a moment. "It's nothing Cee, just my asshole of a cousin."

Cearea Dawn raised an eye brow. "You never told me you had a cousin, Dean." She said, from sitting in the middle of the bed, papers spread about her.

"No? Well I guess I just did." Dean replied, grinning slightly as he came towards the bed.

"Yes, you did. And you didn't sound very happy to hear from him." She said, looking up at him.

Dean looked at the porcelain doll sitting in his bed, with her long deep red hair and her pale skin. "I'm not, but I guess I'll live." He said, sitting down on the bed and looking out the window.. She peered at him over the top of her reading glasses, her green eyes studing him. Dean turned his eyes from the window to look at her.

"Don't worry about it, baby." He said finally, leaning forward and catching her lips before she could say something, kissing her. She shook her head as he got up. Dean headed towards the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of scotch as he passed. Taking a glass from the cabinet, he pour a glass and moved over to the kitchen window, staring out at the New York landscape. Something, something Lucas's tone had caught him. There was a change coming, he could feel it, and he wasn't sure if he was happy about that or not. All he knew is things were about to heat up