The wheels in Chase's mind had been turning ever since her initial unsuccessful conversation with the very harrassed hunter. She didn't glare hatefully, as he thought, but instead with a measure of sympathy. She may not know what it was like to be him, but she did have an inkling on what it was to be like him, hated by the denizens of the sorry world you protect. She felt a kinship to the hunter, and though she may get verbally slapped for going about it the wrong way, she wanted to help where she could. Wouldn't kill her to be civil for at least once in her life.
She rose to her feet and knocked lightly on the door to his office, knowing better than to barge right in there. He'd draw and quarter her and leave the bits for the beasties. "Dante?" She questioned softly. "I wanna apologize...can I come in?"
He heard her knock, of course. But it took him a moment to decide whether or not to be civil. Dante passed the considerative moment by taking another long swallow of earthy-brewed beer.
But he leaned up and set the half empty bottle on the desk and finally answered in what Tony and those that actually knew him would recognize as a non-threatening voice, but the rest of the world would label a rough growl.
"Yeah, door's open."
Although he blinked and paused for a heartbeat at what Chase'd actually said. Apologize? He held in the snort that threatened as the door opened and she emerged around it. Dante sighed, leaned back and tried to relax in his chair, although it was a chore. But she was making the effort, which said a lot about the situation. He could do the same.
So, with a countenance devoid of human expression, he gently tapped his palm against his knee and quietly said, "C'mere, Chase, it's all right."
Chase stepped towards the desk with a careful air, not wanting to break the unspoken truce that now stood between them. She took a seat across from him, looking over the desk at him with tired hazel eyes
( ... )
The same expressionless mask covered his face as Chase spoke. He'd had to use it so long it was now a reflexive gesture, one he didn't even realize he was doing. Blue eyes remained on the door as she spoke, looking right over her head. But he sighed quietly as she finished, shifting in his chair.
"Yeah, I know the feeling," he answered quietly. "I'm not exactly universally loved around here, either. Tony's allowed to stay because his skills are invaluable to the military, but his association with me makes him one step above a groundcrawler. If I didn't hunt the fuckers, they'd have my head on a mount above the communications center." He snorted dryly. "Damned paranoid humans, I fuckin' swear.
A hand bare of glove raked through tousled platinum strands, doing little to calm their disarray, and he finally looked at Chase. "I wasn't avoidingyou, Chase, but they don't allow me any damned respite. I stay in here eight hours usually, just enough time to sleep, eat and reload, then the rest of the time I'm outside, killing
( ... )
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She rose to her feet and knocked lightly on the door to his office, knowing better than to barge right in there. He'd draw and quarter her and leave the bits for the beasties. "Dante?" She questioned softly. "I wanna apologize...can I come in?"
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But he leaned up and set the half empty bottle on the desk and finally answered in what Tony and those that actually knew him would recognize as a non-threatening voice, but the rest of the world would label a rough growl.
"Yeah, door's open."
Although he blinked and paused for a heartbeat at what Chase'd actually said. Apologize? He held in the snort that threatened as the door opened and she emerged around it. Dante sighed, leaned back and tried to relax in his chair, although it was a chore. But she was making the effort, which said a lot about the situation. He could do the same.
So, with a countenance devoid of human expression, he gently tapped his palm against his knee and quietly said, "C'mere, Chase, it's all right."
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"Yeah, I know the feeling," he answered quietly. "I'm not exactly universally loved around here, either. Tony's allowed to stay because his skills are invaluable to the military, but his association with me makes him one step above a groundcrawler. If I didn't hunt the fuckers, they'd have my head on a mount above the communications center." He snorted dryly. "Damned paranoid humans, I fuckin' swear.
A hand bare of glove raked through tousled platinum strands, doing little to calm their disarray, and he finally looked at Chase. "I wasn't avoidingyou, Chase, but they don't allow me any damned respite. I stay in here eight hours usually, just enough time to sleep, eat and reload, then the rest of the time I'm outside, killing ( ... )
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