A jumble of words and thoughts

“Nah, not at all,” Marshall laughed, waving his fork, but he was definitely blushing, and since he really can’t get a tan anymore, it’s probably horribly obvious. Maybe she’ll think its just the heat of the food even though it’s…not terribly spicy. “I’ve never been good on stakeouts–I keep the windows up and the car off when it’s 100 degrees and can’t do cold weather without keeping the car running and it’s just not discreet, and that’s not counting falling asleep so,” he told her with a chuckle. Truth be told, his last stakeout had been on a rooftop in a village about a mile and a half outside of Kandahar, running on three nights no sleep and just about nothing to eat besides a chili mac MRE. He rubs his eye thinking about it, the phantom feeling of dry sand in his eyes not one he was able to forget just yet.

It was nice to hear Michelle was excited to see him, though, because after getting the phone call from her, he’d been…anxious to say the least. Meeting new people was always exciting, sure, but he liked Michelle. Like, really liked her. Hell, the first night they’d met she’d taken him out for a bite to eat. There literally weren’t any other people he could say that about, so she was probably something special.

After that, they talked quietly here and there, but mostly ate, and the food, which was delicious. Marshall told Michelle as much, and thanked her profusely for getting it all for them. Of course she played it off with a pretty, and frankly contagious smile, and they started to clean up all of the take-away containers. Marshall set their dishes in the dishwasher as Michelle went to get her maps that she had promised to show him once they had finished their meal. She laid them out on the broad kitchen island, and like that, they looked over the building and the streets around it.

“Not too complicated,” Marshall surmised, narrowing his eyes at the maps. “Alarm system?”

-

There was a blush. A kiss of color along Marshall’s pale cheekbone. Michelle didn’t want to embarrass him, so instead she quietly filed it away among the many other things about Marshall that she liked. Considering they were only meeting each other face to face for the second time, it was a disconcertingly high number of things already. It meant something, she was sure, but whatever that something was, she’d wait to examine it until after the job was done.

“So no stakeouts,” she commented. “But I guess I know who to call if I ever need a nap buddy.”

And really, she knew that she ought to stop flirting with him, but it just couldn’t be helped. After packing away their leftovers (half of which Michelle discreetly stuck in a tupperware container that Marshall could take with him if he wanted to), Michelle put on a pot of coffee before slipping away to grab the maps. There was a notable difference in the precise, detailed notes that Malcolm had left on the map and the bold, red strokes that Michelle had later added for Marshall.

“Yeah, it’s more or less a smash and grab. But, you know, with a little more finesse than smash,” she summed up. She poured out a mug of coffee, mixed in an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar, then turned to Marshall, holding up an empty mug, decorated in a picture of a sleeping dog with the caption ‘Mornings are ruff!’. “Do you want a cup of coffee, Marsh?”

She hummed at his question and padded back over to the blueprint from the building. Sipping at her coffee, she reached out and traced her finger around a series of dark blue circles on the building’s north side.

“Here. But I can disable that on my way in; it’s a pretty dated system,” she explained with a grin. “The real trick is gonna be getting in and getting the amulet without the guards seeing me.” She paused and laughed.

“Kinda sounds like an Indiana Jones movie, when I say it like that, I guess,” she said. “Anyway, once I get out and back in the car, it’s just a matter of getting the hell out of the Dodge, as it were.” She moved a little closer, leaving just half a breath of space between them as she pointed to one of the red lines she’d drawn.

“This is gonna be our quickest out, but I filled in back-ups just in case. Though,” she mused,“honestly I’ll be so wound up on the adrenaline that I’ll probably be calling directions as we go. So… Sorry about that in advance.” With a smile, she bumped her forehead playfully against Marshall’s shoulder.

“Any questions?”

-

Marshall waved away a cup of coffee with a “thank you, though”, but smiled at Michelle and the offered cup all the same. Caffeine, like weather, didn’t always agree with him, depending on the day, and if he was going to have to run point on a very minor…heist, apparently. It was probably good he didn’t eat eat as well, because he always felt a little sharper when he was only running on regular food. With a huff of a laugh, Marshall looked back to the blueprints even though Michelle was talking about the archaic alarm system.

“Seems to be how a lot of places are,” he added, nodding, “You’d think if they bothered having an alarm they’d want it up to date but. Whatever, guess they want that shit stolen so they don’t have to worry about it.” Michelle’s comment about the Indiana Jones thing made him laugh, but then he was put back on track when she mentioned getting out of there. Which was his job. 

He watched her for a second when she moved close, and Marshall probably paused a moment to long in watching her than he should have. That seemed like something he was going to make a bad habit of if he didn’t nip it in the bud immediately. But how could he help it? And then she bumped his shoulder affectionately, and he beamed like an idiot. 

She was loathe to admit any kind of gap in her own knowledge, but the truth was that even she didn’t have the codices and practical expertise required for this particular relic. She hadn’t had access to her own magic for a very long time, and even if she had, fae magic wasn’t like the kind that humans used. Malloren, on the other hand, was almost annoyingly adept and well-studied. Tig had seen to that.

Marshall was taking the glut of information in stride; he even smiled at Michelle when she nudge at him. That was good on more than one level. It meant he was level headed, maybe even pleased to have a crack at this with her. And, much more superficially, his smile was… Michelle reflexively returned the expression and then looked back to the map, feeling like a blushing teenager. In keeping with Marshall’s apparent “smoldering male model” aesthetic, his smile was gorgeous and warm.

Get a grip, Fang, Michelle chided internally. They were on the clock, as it were. She grabbed the keys for the getaway car and held them out with a broad grin.

“I’m ready if you are, sugar.”

—

The next time Malloren wanted an amulet from a some lab, she could buy it herself like other eccentric rich people did. Everything had gone as Michelle had expected. Or it had, until she had had the poor fortune of running into a guard that apparently loved his work so much that he liked to go on his rounds early. The guard also seemed to be laboring under the delusion that he was Rambo because the moment he’d seen Michelle, he’d drawn his weapon without so much as a fraction of hesitancy.

She’d knocked him out, but not before he’d grazed her side. It was a shallow wound. A knick, really. But it stung like hell, and the shot had probably alerted the rest of the security staff. It wasn’t likely that they were all trigger-happy meatheads, but Michelle was not in much of a gambling mood, so she hightailed it for the nearest escape route.

There was a window at the end of the hall, tall and wide. It was hooked into the alarm system, but she gathered magic in her hands and sent it crashing into the glass. It rippled outward and the writing that framed the window popped and crackled before going dead. She yanked it open and waited just long enough to make sure the car was below her before she jumped. Her magic wrapped around her waist and and wrists and ankles, slowing her descent, but her earlier exertions, combined with the slightly-less-shallow-than-she’d-thought bullet wound made the effort just this side of too much.

Michelle yelped as she fell the last couple of feet and landed on the hood of the car with an ungraceful thud. Which was as embarrassing as it was painful, but she didn’t have time to worry about if Marshall thought she was a dork. She slid from the hood of the car and threw herself into the passenger seat.