Sara woke to see Ian sitting on the edge of the bed putting on... no,
taking off his boots. She sat up and touched his shoulder, feeling the
damp of early morning fog that had seeped into his shirt.
"Where've you been already?" she asked.
He shrugged casually. "Handing in my termination papers at Vorschlag."
"Termination papers?" Her eyebrows crept up at the odd grin that she was already entirely too fond of. She remembered what this particular expression usually meant. It meant that someone else somewhere else was not smiling at all.
"I believe that they now have standing orders to shoot me on sight."
She had to smirk at his unconventional sense of humor. "You just aren't happy unless someone is trying to kill you, are you?"
The shrug again, the widening grin. "They're welcome to try."
Sara sighed. "While I appreciate the gesture," she said. "And believe me, I understand why you did it. Are you really sure you're ready to piss him off like that?"
"What's done is done. After all that has happened, I cannot go back."
"It's not going to be that easy."
"I know."
She looked at him with frank astonishment. The transformation which began with her promise to help him just the night before was hurtling along at an almost alarming speed. She was half-afraid that this was proceeding too quickly, that the real battle had not yet been engaged. But she couldn't deny that there was something charming about his enthusiasm for his newly discovered freedom. She only hoped that it wasn't crushed when Irons threw the first serious obstacle at them.
"So what are you going to do now?" she asked, leaning back on her elbows. "Follow me around full-time? Or try actually getting a life?"
"Maybe a little of both," he said with a smile that she liked even more than the grin. She watched curiously as he set a small PDA on the nightstand crate. "Offer number one," he said as the email icon flashed. "Despite what your partner thinks, I do have a reputation that does not rely entirely on my proficiency at killing things."
"People," she amended for him. She really was going to have to cure him of that gesture, she thought absently as he shrugged once again.
"If I'm engaged to protect something, it stays protected. That is an offer for the head of security position at the biomedical research facility of Vorshlag's leading competitor."
"You've been busy this morning. And you are really raring to irk him, aren't you?" She was torn between being impressed at his wholehearted break with Irons and being very, very worried about his disturbingly persistent suicidal tendencies. Something else she needed to cure him of and soon.
"I haven't taken it yet." He gave her the maddening grin that made most rational people sprint for cover. "I expect offers from a few other rival players as well. Then I can decide which one will vex him most."
"You're incorrigible," she snorted as he nestled beneath the blankets once again. "Not to mention the fact that you kick in your sleep, have an annoying habit of vanishing into thin air, and you're carrying around a massively unhealthy death wish. What am I going to do with you?" she wondered rhetorically.
"Anything you want," he said, eyes already closed. There wasn't a hint of flippancy in his voice. Sometimes his guileless subservience was downright unnerving, she mused. She wasn't sure if she should be offended on his behalf... or if she should take advantage of his ingenuous offer. As she stared down at his face she was struck once again by how innocent he looked in repose. In some respects, she realized, he still was. She brushed a finger lightly across his lips and watched them curve in response. And that, she thought, was probably the easiest affliction of all to cure.
"Where've you been already?" she asked.
He shrugged casually. "Handing in my termination papers at Vorschlag."
"Termination papers?" Her eyebrows crept up at the odd grin that she was already entirely too fond of. She remembered what this particular expression usually meant. It meant that someone else somewhere else was not smiling at all.
"I believe that they now have standing orders to shoot me on sight."
She had to smirk at his unconventional sense of humor. "You just aren't happy unless someone is trying to kill you, are you?"
The shrug again, the widening grin. "They're welcome to try."
Sara sighed. "While I appreciate the gesture," she said. "And believe me, I understand why you did it. Are you really sure you're ready to piss him off like that?"
"What's done is done. After all that has happened, I cannot go back."
"It's not going to be that easy."
"I know."
She looked at him with frank astonishment. The transformation which began with her promise to help him just the night before was hurtling along at an almost alarming speed. She was half-afraid that this was proceeding too quickly, that the real battle had not yet been engaged. But she couldn't deny that there was something charming about his enthusiasm for his newly discovered freedom. She only hoped that it wasn't crushed when Irons threw the first serious obstacle at them.
"So what are you going to do now?" she asked, leaning back on her elbows. "Follow me around full-time? Or try actually getting a life?"
"Maybe a little of both," he said with a smile that she liked even more than the grin. She watched curiously as he set a small PDA on the nightstand crate. "Offer number one," he said as the email icon flashed. "Despite what your partner thinks, I do have a reputation that does not rely entirely on my proficiency at killing things."
"People," she amended for him. She really was going to have to cure him of that gesture, she thought absently as he shrugged once again.
"If I'm engaged to protect something, it stays protected. That is an offer for the head of security position at the biomedical research facility of Vorshlag's leading competitor."
"You've been busy this morning. And you are really raring to irk him, aren't you?" She was torn between being impressed at his wholehearted break with Irons and being very, very worried about his disturbingly persistent suicidal tendencies. Something else she needed to cure him of and soon.
"I haven't taken it yet." He gave her the maddening grin that made most rational people sprint for cover. "I expect offers from a few other rival players as well. Then I can decide which one will vex him most."
"You're incorrigible," she snorted as he nestled beneath the blankets once again. "Not to mention the fact that you kick in your sleep, have an annoying habit of vanishing into thin air, and you're carrying around a massively unhealthy death wish. What am I going to do with you?" she wondered rhetorically.
"Anything you want," he said, eyes already closed. There wasn't a hint of flippancy in his voice. Sometimes his guileless subservience was downright unnerving, she mused. She wasn't sure if she should be offended on his behalf... or if she should take advantage of his ingenuous offer. As she stared down at his face she was struck once again by how innocent he looked in repose. In some respects, she realized, he still was. She brushed a finger lightly across his lips and watched them curve in response. And that, she thought, was probably the easiest affliction of all to cure.