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]

"Well, considering it only requires skills like stealth and a good aim, I doubt I'll be much better than you," she muses. "Even with you in slacks."

[piqued]

The creep of his smile is entirely unconscious. "'ve got very good aim, Miss Blythe."

[somuchheart]

She can hear the smile in his words, but looks up anyway, an answering grin spreading over her lips. "Well, then. May the best soldier win."

[piqued]

Swinging into the lot to park makes it a good time to look at her Properly. "In bocca al lupo, tesora."

Too Familiar, true. But she wanted him to Relax, didn't she?

[somuchheart]

That makes her pause for a moment, watching him speculatively before getting out of the car. "You too."

Registering is easy. Before long, they're suited up in the bulky vests with fake guns in their hands. The first round is Blythe against Declan, and she gives him a grin as the timer starts to countdown. "Ready?"

[piqued]

There's an amused hum on his lips as he nudges her ribs with his elbow. "Born in such a fashion, Miss."

[somuchheart]

She only has time to wink before the timer rings. In a heartbeat, she dashes behind a black barrier, rolls as best she can in a thick vest, then fires from a hole in the wall at his suit.

She takes this very seriously.

[piqued]

She's a Consigliere. True, she couldn't have gotten there without being a good Soldier first, but she likely hasn't spent as much time in the field since the promotion.

She's good. But so is he. And he's spent the last ten years perfecting the art of hiding and taking headshots. Luck will have something to do with the hunt, but so will his skill with a firearm.

Even a little plastic one.

[somuchheart]

And so she's disappointed when the final score is 56 to 64, but not very surprised. Her hair sticks to her forehead as they emerge from the room, and she laughs as she holds a hand out to him, just a little short for breath. "Good game. I let you win, of course."

[piqued]

Maybe he's smiling. Not from the victory, not from the joke, but from the simply Joy of having been Moving again. Having been Active and almost Useful for a little while.

"Of course."

They can live in that reality. They can hopefully also live in the reality of him taking her hand and pulling it to his lips rather than shaking it.

[somuchheart]

It's surprising. It's not what she's expecting. Rather than protesting, though, she smiles in response, curtsying a little before laughing and squeezing his fingers a little tightly.

"Do you want to do a... um, a cooperative game? We can see if there are other people who are registered. They won't know what hit them."

[piqued]

"I suppose we do make quite the team."

From a Theoretical standpoint. And, well, from the standpoint of being currently rather Proficient together in the kitchen.

And perhaps a Touch from the standpoint of him simply not being able to let go of her hand yet.

[somuchheart]

She'll handle it with grace, slipping her hand easily into his and not letting go as they seek out another pair. He can let go any time he wants.

He should probably let go as they beat the two cocky teenage boys to a pulp.

[piqued]

Oh, for That, he'll let go. There's something about people Outside their life who think they're Hard that absolutely drives him up a wall.

It's possible that this victory will leave him actually laughing.

[somuchheart]

When the score turns out to be 155 to 72? He has good reason to be laughing. She'll immediately pump her fist in the air, then jump to throw her arms around him without thinking.

[piqued]

She's easy to catch, to pull up in his arms for a moment, to bury his face against her neck with the exhilaration of the hunt.

"Suppose that-- wasn't quite fair t' them."

[somuchheart]

She giggles, just a little wickedly. "Their own fault for underestimating your lack of brawn and my abundance of femininity," she says, pulling back just slightly to look into his eyes happily.

It'll take another few minutes before she actually pulls away from him. At least.

[piqued]

There's almost a Pout in his hum, arms still easily around her waist. "I'm not completely lacking in brawn."

[somuchheart]

"You're quite weedy," she teases. "I bet you can't even lift me up." That. Is a challenge that shouldn't have slipped out of her mouth.

[piqued]

That is a Challenge that he'll be rising to without preamble. His arms worm away from holding into scooping, pulling her up bridal style only because he's not certain a fireman's hold wouldn't slam her head into too-low ceilings.

[somuchheart]

Her sound of surprise is quiet, but her eyes are certainly wide. Her arms squeeze lightly before she murmurs distractedly, "You don't have to-- you've proved-- I'm quite sweaty."

[piqued]

"E 'seducente." Which, really, a person doesn't need a speaker of the language to understand. He takes a step before shifting to set her down again. "So am I, mm?"

[somuchheart]

Her breath catches at the Italian, and she steps away a little as soon as he lets her down. "I- yes, you have-- you're strong."

After a pause, she starts heading to the door, hands wringing worriedly. "I don't think we should be doing this."

[piqued]

The silence is briefly Distinct. The pause of his feet is briefly Pronounced. Then he moves to get the door for her. "Shall I take you back to your people, Miss?"

[somuchheart]

"...no. Can we--" She pauses, then starts again. "Can we go back to the motel? So... I can explain?"