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This strange ache in his chest. Was it indigestion? Breakfast had been questionable, after all.
Natalie's voice stopped him. He turned toward her as she emerged from the room. Jacques was no where in sight. Meaning she'd left him behind. The fancy french CEO, powerful guy in Africa, charming irresistible grin? For Jay. His inner hero of high school stifled a grin.
The throbbing in his leg became a buzz of distraction. Pain? Yeah, he supposed you could call it that. But it was peripheral: a sunset to a sniper.
He hobbled back to meet her half way. As he did, a lopsided grin tugged one corner of his mouth, betraying him, before he smothered it back behind a veneer of callous, intimidating, professional soldier-type. God she had incredible eyes.
"That means I've saved you twice, now. You know I'm trained to kill bad guys, not save damsels in distress. Your Mister Danjou might get worried."
The emphasis on 'your' was carefully balanced between teasing and testing. Honestly, what kind of girl could resist someone like Jacques when he turned it on full blast? Nobody, right? But that didn't mean Jay didn't have a fighting chance. He was the one with the wounded leg. And a kitten.
A dying man uses every weapon in reach.
Edited by Jay Carpenter, Sep 17 2014, 06:40 AM.
Only darkness shows you the light.
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Jay didn't stop. She stabbed an irritated look in Danjou's direction before submitting to following him out into the corridor, not exactly impressed with the situation - was he really going to hobble himself all the way back down the stairs, because - what? At least he had waited. A flash of boyish grin was lost beneath a stone expression almost before she'd registered it. The awkwardness of Jay's escape quickly retreated to something hard, though he continued to limp towards her.
It was the first time she'd seen him properly lucid, without the flying cross of bullets or debilitation of morphine. He'd cradled the rescued kitten protectively, been so gentle with its fragile body - and apparently allowed it to use him as a scratching post, by the thin red lines on his skin. Natalie didn't consider herself sentimental, but it had stuck in her mind. For a second she wondered if it had just been the pain and meds loosening something in his brain. His words now surprised her for no good reason she could fathom, but the curtness in his tone bristled a cool reaction whatever his intention.
Damsel?
"You're keeping score? Blame your CEO. He took the contract."
He'd tested the your carefully, but she shoved it right back, refusing to offer vindication. If that's what he sought. Her arms folded. She didn't care what he thought - she didn't think she cared what he thought - but the intensity of her gaze didn't take a blink from his face while she internally dissected the situation. Whether he was offering honesty or jealousy, and what she thought of either. "If you're not happy to work with me, ask for a reassignment. Your boss is just in there. You seem to have noticed?"
Her fingers gestured back toward the door, and she shifted to allow him passage past her if he wished, her shoulder pressed against the wall. She could have walked away herself, but her feet were planted firm, and her gaze echoed the question. She wouldn't be the one to back down, but she wouldn't force him to a situation he found intolerable either. His lopsided grin beat like an echo in her mind, the whispered memory of a memory.
"Though before you do, you obviously came up here for a reason. You ought to at least tell me what it was."
Ekene stiffened when the door opened to reveal the man he had hurt. His eyes dropped, desperate to avoid eye contact and so any notice at all, though actually the man didn't seem to even see him. Natalie left, left Ekene with the man who spoke kindly. The boys lips pursed in answer, gaze flicking up once in acknowledgement before he bailed from the bravery. He put up no fight against the urging, in fact now that the man with the sunglasses was outside he didn't seem particularly eager to stay.
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Her retort snapped like a snake striking at his boot. But Jay wasn't wounded. In fact, he had the urge to egg her on. In good fun of course. And to see her squirm a little, maybe? She was hella unflappable. And Jay had the sense that no matter what he did, it'd be impossible to wound someone with dragonskin for armor.
"Damn right I'm keeping score."
His response spilled from his lips before he could filter himself. Carp had a way where everything he said seemed like he was flirting. He couldn't help it. But self-awareness over this talent came in handy. Particularly when it came to dealing with prickly women. Mrs. Olane, tenth grade geometry, I'm talking to you.
While they stood there, he shifted his weight to the good leg. His other resisted bending at the knee. The thin, honeycomb white cast over the other kept it in place. At least it fit under his pants, for the most part. They were ripped open at the ankle for wiggle room. He'd normally wear them fitted into his combat boots.
"I came up here to tell you I'm not sure if this whole liaison thing means I'm a glorified bodyguard or something else, but I'll do my damndest to be the best liaison the red cross has ever seen."
He planted hands on his hips like a brick wall she could probably topple with the brush of a finger. Or the flutter of eyelashes. Looking into them felt like he was laying in the hay staring up into a cloudless bright sky.
And he completely forgot about the real reason for confronting her. Mr. Wizard was the last thing on his mind, now.
Only darkness shows you the light.
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He didn't shift. She found herself relieved that he didn't, as though the rejection of a stranger might have meant something. Natalie did not care what others thought. Even at the crux of her family's scandal, she'd been unmoved by the terrible headlines, and it had never censored her actions after. Her pale gaze took him in carefully when it seemed he had decided to stay, uncertain why it made an impression.
"A bodyguard? With the amount I imagine my mother parted with to ensure my "rescue", I'd have thought Mr Danjou might be able to muster someone a little more in tact."
The words were cruel, given the circumstances, but such was the dryness of her sense of humour. The light in her eyes was playful, the smirk soft. Gold hair framed a porcelain face, but those who judged her angelic by her colouring were often quickly disabused. She pulled no punches. Repartee for the damsel comment.
As to the implicit question. Actually, she wasn't sure what exactly his assignment as a liaison entailed. Though she had ideas, the forefront of which was that she amounted to a pleasant purpose for a man dragged away from the front-lines. Usually the manipulation might have incited a knee-jerk retraction from being used in such a way, but she found she didn't mind. The distraction worked both ways after all. Whatever she'd sought by escaping London, she'd never found it. Duty to the Red Cross filled a hole, but the shovel never stopped piling in fresh dirt. She wouldn't abandon that duty, but the diversion from it was welcomed.
She closed the distance to pat him lightly on the chest. He broadened up close. Taller than she'd realised. "Though don't worry. I'm not trained for it either, but I've no problem saving a damsel in distress when I see one."
Another smirk, all secretive around the edges. Two could play at flirting. "So I'm sure I'll even the score."
On contact, soft threads of light pooled out from her fingertips. It wasn't something she intended, but apparently there was a deeper need than floated in her consciousness to check his well-being. It told her nothing she could not have already discerned by the fact he was up and walking, leg in cast. The slip of her own control irritated her. Not that she truly understood the strangeness of the gift, but she did not usually succumb so easily to its temptation.
"I don't plan to stay cooped up in the embassy."
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Hey. Jay was as in tact as any other <del>soldier</del> Legionnaire. Just happened that at the moment his 5k time was a little slower. He took the (metaphorical) jab in stride, (also metaphorically). In fact, he'd already forgotten about it.
He wondered who her mom was that could afford to phone in a double truck of Legionnaire chauffeurs. Other than being some Brit. Natalie's file hadn't included her backstory. Which led him again, to wonder, why she was working for the Red Cross anyway. They must have impressive pull. Or at least Natalie's mom did. To make sure her daughter was safe in the middle of a coup on another continent. Supposed even charities were just political machines. Kind of a shame to realize.
She pat him on the chest and he instinctively broadened. "No problem with me. I tend to prefer salvation to peril. Most of the time."
He cleared his throat and stepped aside, his body heat having suddenly fluxed. Maybe he needed air. Or maybe the wizard coaching was too much. But - Oh damn! That's right! He'd meant to ask Natalie about- well-
His brow furrowed down trying to think of how to put it.
A Legionnaire called his name and Jay's concentration broke.
He nodded at Natalie. "If you want to get your cute and cuddly time in later, you know where to go. And the kitten will be there too."
A grin and he hobbled on down the hall.
Only darkness shows you the light.
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