Yes, I have been writing. But it's been on my original fic. Sorry!
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Luckily for Knives, the room with the food was close. The weak feeling in his knees was annoying, to be sure, but even worse would have been stumbling in the presence of a human. He didn't know what game they thought they were playing with him, but an obvious show of weakness could be fatal. For them, if they thought that they could do anything to him. Even at his weakest the humans were no match for him.
He could destroy this facility, if he really wanted too. He wasn't quite so weak that such a meager task was out of his reach. But he might not survive the destruction himself, and wouldn't that make the whole endeavor pointless? One killed the spiders to save the butterflies. One didn't involve themselves in a kamikaze attack on hapless arachnids.
The repast was spread out on a card table. The room was stark white and still smelled faintly of bleach. Knives looked around before sitting down at the far end of the table, assessing the fresh cleanliness of the room. Obviously, this wasn't a room in common use. The floor was tidy, but still slightly streaked with moisture from its mopping. The walls were much more white than those he recalled seeing elsewhere in the building for the most part, but there were a few patches of dingy gray they had missed when they wiped them down. He could hardly fault the condition of the room now if the spots that they missed were any indication of its prior appearance. But had he been less hungry the reek of bleach might have adversely affected his appetite.
They didn't trust him near anything that they used, and he didn't blame them. Quite. His gaze slid to the man who had followed him into the room, trying to read his expression, hoping for a hint of his intentions. There was nothing, just a bland smile and friendly eyes. Surely a ruse, but it was working. He resisted pondering the problem, knowing that his lack of caloric energy was detrimental to his thought process. After eating he would reassess the situation.
After looking over the room he turned his attention to the food. If there was a common theme to the meal, it was bland. He picked up the fork by the plate before him and stabbed a boiled chicken breast off the platter before him. He cut and ate the pale meat, chewing absentmindedly as he tried to find something on the table with a hint of taste. If this was common fare in their cafeteria, it was a wonder they could keep any employees.
There was a bowl of oatmeal, some toasted bread, a container of applesauce, some bland white flour crackers, a bowl of white grapes, and another bowl filled with white rice. Knives dished out a serving of the rice next for the starches, then applied himself to the rest of what was offered. It wasn't a very pleasing meal but it was filling. He consoled himself with the fact that he wasn't dining for pleasure, but arming himself with the ammunition his body needed to face what the humans were about to do. The fools, they, to give him what he needed most.
Before his appetite was sated he had eaten almost everything on the table. When done, he looked up at the man who had led him here. "I will see Anne."
He nodded, then turned to open the door. "We haven't seen any change in her condition," he offered as Knives passed him into the hall.
"That means nothing to me besides affirming that you are incompetent."
Before going more than a few steps they passed a couple men bearing more food. It was not the same as what Knives had been offered, being much more enticing to someone with a sense of taste. A heaping bowl of fried rice, spaghetti, some more chicken breasts, but coated in barbeque sauce instead of merely boiled, a fruit salad, ice cream, and a plate of fresh baked cookies. He turned to look after the food and watched as its bearers entered the room he had just vacated.
"That's for Vash and Alex," his guide offered.
Knives turned to look at the man, his gaze icy as he pondered the insult. Was he someone to be so easily insulted? These humans knew what he was, and who he was. They should know that he was not one to suffer insults from fools. His mind raced as he contemplated a sufficient degree of punishment.
"They aren't as paranoid as you are," the man continued musingly. "We didn't want you to worry that we had hidden anything in the food and then not eat anything." He looked at Knives, his brown eyes meeting the cold blue ones for just a moment before skittering off to look at the wall.
"I am not. Paranoid." The last word was spat out with the venom that he could no longer justify releasing. Knives looked back at the room. The tantalizing scent of the dishes lingered in the hall, mocking him. He hadn't even thought to worry about what might have been in the food presented. He must be going soft. Scowling, he walked back to get something tasty. Paranoid, him? The humans did want him dead, so his caution was not paranoid. It might not be justified in this instance but that didn't mean that it wasn't called for.
His guide followed after Knives had been in the room a moment, then nearly ran into Knives as he exited the room, two warm chocolate chip cookies in either hand. With an aloof stare he took a large bite out of the first cookie.
Wisely, his guide did not smile.
