au meme } running from the law | blythe

[piqued]

from here.

She isn’t His Consigliere. He isn’t her Soldier. But when it’s time to run, it’s Time to Run, and it doesn’t always get to be Clean and Simple as would be Convenient.

There will be time to sort themselves out properly. Until then, well, at least the di Spade and the Coppe families are more Allied than not these days. It means driving just a Hair above the speed limit down a dark country road with her in his car isn’t a Problem.

Just not the Most Convenient.

“I’m sure we’ll be there soon, Miss.”

Somewhere Safe. Relatively, at any rate.

Comments

[somuchheart]

She huffs, but there's the slightest bit of amusement in her breath. "I can't do more than this in a kitchen, and I'm sorry, but I cannot allow a stranger to prepare a meal for me. You understand."

[piqued]

"...I can't cut tomatoes for you, Miss?"

That.

That's going to make their time together Tricky.

[somuchheart]

"My previous boss was poisoned. You must understand my... heightened concern."

She hesitates, then lets her shoulders slump. "Although I suppose-- one tomato can't hurt."

[piqued]

The knife is in his hand faster than would make a person feel quite safe. If he chops more than one tomato, if an onion and the head of lettuce follow, well, he's making Himself a sandwich as well.

"If it's any cold comfort, Miss, that's far from our style."

The di Spade were much, much better known for stabbing people from the front.

[somuchheart]

She snorts, her voice sharp and dry. "I know that. It's far from our style too, and yet the attack came from within."

[piqued]

"And that is certainly a shame, Miss. It only seems less than economical to have brought you here to poison your sandwich."

The Panic would have been a perfect time to blame the police for any of their usual, Overt sort of murders.

[somuchheart]

She hesitates for a final moment before relenting and tearing into her own sandwich with gusto. After she swallows, she manages to say, "no meat, please, and extra tomatoes."

[piqued]

Well. That's certainly Much Nicer, isn't it. A much more Sustainable position to be settling into for their first of what will likely be Many days together.

There's a faint Hum on his lips as he pops a piece of tomato into his own mouth, bobs his head as he pulls another two red fruits from the basket. Two sandwiches--one with meat, one with extra tomato.

A Good Start, surely.

[somuchheart]

As she eats this sandwich with more finesse, she looks up at him thoughtfully. "You should teach me. It's about time I learned to support myself."

[piqued]

"...to slice tomatoes, Miss?"

Give him a second to take that in properly. To think there were Grown-Up People who in fact ranked Above him and couldn't... slice tomatoes.

[somuchheart]

"I was thinking more along the lines of cooking in general, though slicing tomatoes could be a good start." She raises an eyebrow. "Just in case I need to fend for myself, it might be a good idea to be able to make something more than a sandwich. Don't you agree?"

[piqued]

He does. He very, very much Does.

"...we'll start in the morning, then."

[somuchheart]

"Good," she says, with an almost smile. "Once we finish up here, can you get me some nightclothes, Chives?"

[piqued]

That, at least, is easy enough. Both sandwiches made, his mind whirling the entire time, and one set before her on the counter. His own is ignored in favour of moving off again, finding the old woman who manages the safe house in their behalf to arrange for clothing.

[somuchheart]

She notices he hasn't eaten, files it away in her mind, but doesn't say anything. As long as she finds herself a bed and some decent nightclothes (read: not too revealing), she'll be set for the night.

[piqued]

He'll eat once he's certain things have been Arranged, unwind to a certain extent in the kitchen over his sandwich, finally loosen his tie.

This can't last long. It genuinely can't.

[somuchheart]

Quite a few days will be spent politely, but distant from each other. It's only when a week and half passes without news that Blythe thinks she might have to start getting comfortable with this lifestyle.

[piqued]

The end of the first week feels Distinct. It means things have to start really Settling. That the long haul must be Accepted as reality. There starts to be Order to days--cooking lessons, time in the same space, moment of allowing little touches when a strand of hair is loose or a tie needs adjusting.

It will be odd, at the end of the month, to leave her side.

[somuchheart]

They get closer. She hides her face against a shoulder when laughing at a joke, clings to his elbow if she stumbles in her heels.

When she finally gets a call from her boss, it's dismay that hits her first, not relief. Which is... bothersome.

[piqued]

It's comfortable. It's almost what he imagines it might be like to have a life Outside the one they've chosen. To have a proper Friend rather than just a huge number of Obligations.

The look on her face is Confusing as she hangs up. It's also, in a way, a Reminder. This isn't Their Life. This is a Moment in time.

He settles back slightly more at the kitchen table, pulls out the gun he hasn't stopped wearing to strip it for a final cleaning. "Where am I taking you, then?"

[somuchheart]

"... a safe spot. A meeting place." She's silent for a moment, then shoves her phone into her pocket abruptly and turns away from him, heading to her room. "I- need to pack."

[piqued]

Which... is fine. Which doesn't... hurt. They're going back to the way things Should Be. Right?

"...I'll be here."

Quietly cleaning his gun. Quietly existing in this space as a soldier is expected to.

[somuchheart]

They'll get in the car. They'll head to the designated meeting spot. They'll exist in a distant silence that's only broken by the occasional direction from Blythe.

And then something slips out. "Get lost." A moment passes, and then she elucidates. "Take the wrong turn."

[piqued]

The Jolt is surely understandable. His eyes flash to her for a moment before they have to revert to the road.

"A-- wrong turn, Miss?"

[somuchheart]

"Wouldn't it be a pity if we got lost? If I accidentally said left instead of right?" She can't help the mischievous tug at her lips, a smile he's surely seen often now that he knows her.