#herownside

he lets her sit with that question. lets her rethink it and how he moves from one side of the room to the other while it marinates in so much silence. she's not owed an explanation and he's not overeager to give one, either. chooses, instead, to busy himself with the empty clip he ejects and its successor, frisked from his hip, is aloft for scrutiny. " you've been off comm for two days. "

shink! metal kisses metal and the first of many rounds is chambered. " do i have to remind you of our arrangement ? " and what would happen if her end of it fell through. " i don't enjoy babysitting you. " ada's acknowledged at the edge of peripherals, red glow haloing behind shades that only just keep the shine from peeking through. not that he feared her knowing. one spoke on his wheel ; it would turn without her.

" you have a job to be doing. " on the other side of an island crawling with the unimaginative results of an unworthy mind. headaches he'd topple easier, on his own, though dirtied hands were better suited for more admirable foes. names and faces he'd put to memory, years ago. " or did you forget ? "

they dance around each other in every room they enter. pretend their relations a cordial sort. small talk is allotted in brief, passing bursts. and then they wind up back here. free of expectations and the clawing eyes of their peers, each of whom would have salivated for the opportunity to know what went on behind closed — and locked — doors. where an evening is shed alongside their clothes and a ruthless hunger, crawled up from the core of that scar on his chest, makes itself known at the swell of hers. rings of teeth, an interwoven signature she'll hide beneath the same dress she now asks him to assist her with.

" you can't handle it yourself ? " he chides and its mirth is unmistakable. the beast is sated, for now.. an offering of flesh at its altar makes his strides, slow, but deliberate. " i'm disappointed. "

it will take only a second, the tiny peek of a zipper's tongue lulling out at him from a parted seam. it will take only a second, but the night is still young and bare hands don't hesitate when they smooth up and over the curve of thin shoulders. a walk across pale skin, raised and pink in spots he knows to look for.. to thumb over. a man appreciating his work and the valuable way his canvas never fails to display it.

most of the time. he thinks it, but keeps his mouth shut. chooses to stay still and quiet as she makes her choice. what comes next. while his rifle is steady and the quiet shuffle in the adjacent rooms adds a layer of expediency to that decision. james knows her by appearance alone. not a target, but someone to be on the lookout for. keep an eye on, if found. report back to base if the virus was intact. it follows an itinerary that never changes, though a darkness beyond pulled curtains warrants pause till dawn. for his sake. for hers.

" so what happened ? " behind his mask, the question is muffled. it stands on the unstable ground of zero expectations, aware that she'd answer if, and only if, she felt like it. humor the emblem on his shoulder more so than himself. throw umbrella the scraps they needed to reimagine a tenuous working relationship with a supposed dead woman.

comfort comes second to security, the wall behind him a crooked finger that offers a loose notion of relaxation he doesn't allow himself. stands straighter for the rogue thought to lean back.. adjusts his grip on the stock that thought, briefly, to droop. @riphalos isn't in crosshairs, but that could change before she had time to respond. correct the ill-advised lax that hangs like the bags under unblinking eyes. further proof he'd been in the field too long. had watched one rendezvous point after another fall to flames and teeth and the clawing fingers that'd left their marks on gear otherwise unbothered. the city was a'wash. it wouldn't be much longer, now.