"And you're sure that this will work?" Hank did not sound very confident as he glanced with some scepticism at her handiwork. Four bags, red, green, blue and yellow, each containing either sage, lavender, rosemary or thyme, along with salt. Ace nodded, tying up the last one with a tight knot, which she had learnt from a hoodoo priestess back in the day. "Oh yeah, this'll do the trick alright. No ghosts, and demons can't get in. Or out, for that matter." She tossed the bag in the air and caught it expertly with a satisfied smirk. Her immense relief at being back to her old mischiefs was obvious, and Hank couldn't help but get slightly caught up in it as well, even though he was a sceptic towards these things, both by nature and trade. Before she popped up, he hadn't been one to give any credit to superstitions, but he couldn't very well deny the proof he'd seen. He had even gone so far as to check the surveillance tapes of his lab, and had found that the man had indeed showed up. There was just no denying it at this point.
He shot a glance at the ten-gallon tank she'd requested, which he had found in the form of an empty aquarium stuffed away in the attic. He didn't really see the point in tossing water at demons, but he had realised what she meant to do with it when she'd also asked him to find a crucifix or a rosary. Holy water, she'd explained, would harm demons, but not their human hosts. To humans it was just normal water, so it was also a way of testing who might be possessed. It was, at any rate, good to have around just in case. He looked around his lab, unable to shake off the feeling that this was really odd. He was not used to having salt in his window sills and doorway, and there was a 'devil's trap' painted in black on the ceiling a few steps away from the door. God, if anyone saw this without knowing the circumstanced, he'd earn himself a one-way ticket to the madhouse.
"Right, let's go through this one more time-"
"I do remember, you know. Red, south. Blue, west. Green, north. Yellow, east." They had gone through this about one dozen times, not that Hank had been counting, and although he understood the importance of the placement of the bags, he really didn't need the instructions more than once. "I understand your enthusiasm for this, but please do not expect me to feel the same." He knew she needed reminding once in a while, she got quite carried away, and he tried to deliver it with a gentleness to his voice to ensure that she did not feel as though he was annoyed with her. Annoyed was not even close to what he was, he was intrigued by the sheer amount of information she had amassed in her head, and the creativity with which she used it. Her thought process certainly was unusual. Her face fell for a moment, but then she smiled awkwardly. "Yeah, sorry. I keep forgetting that Sandra's not here." That name again, he had to ask now. She'd mentioned it a few times.
"Sandra being…?" He couldn't miss the way her eyes turned distant, as though she was remembering, or how her smile turned unmistakably sad. "My hunting partner." An airy, humourless chuckle escaped her, and she ran her fingers through her slightly ruffled blonde hair. "She's probably at the Roadhouse rounding up other hunters to try getting me back. They won't succeed, of course, so they'll try to kill that son-of-a – I mean the planebreaker." She was trying to stay cool, but he could tell that she was distressed. At least she was talking about it now, seemingly she'd begun to trust him after he stood up against Death for her. Well, if that wasn't a sign of loyalty, he didn't know what was.
"I do apologise, I did not mean to bring up an upsetting subject." His apology did not have the desired effect, she just shrugged it off, checking the knots on the bags one more time, even though it really wasn't necessary. Then, to his great surprise, she tossed them at him, and he only just managed to snatch them from the air. "Get these in place, I'll finish down here." There was no hint of sadness or any form of bitterness in her eyes now, and he presumed that she had already put their conversation behind her. It never ceased to amaze him how deeply animalistic Ace's thought process was at time, she seemed to live so much in the 'now' that he almost envied her for it. Then again, she must have gone through an awful lot to reach that state of mind, so maybe it wasn't opportune.
He left the lab without any further words, knowing per instinct that now wasn't the time for such things, but for actions. Protective measures, to be more precise. She would feel safer and more at home once they were in place, and judging by her ragged, sleepless look, she needed that badly.
When he returned, she was standing before the water-filled aquarium, the crucifix dipped in the water. She was mumbling something, but only when he silently moved closer could he discern the words. It was latin, church latin, which meant he didn't understand it entirely. He knew enough to be certain that it was a blessing and an invocation, though he couldn't tell exactly what it was about. There was no obvious result to it, no strange glows or odd ripples in the water. Just a constant chanting.
"Exorcizo te, creatura aquæ, in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis, et in nomine Jesu Christi, Filii ejus Domini nostri, et in virtute Spiritus Sancti: ut fias aqua exorcizata ad effugandam omnem potestatem inimici, et ipsum inimicum eradicare et explantare valeas cum angelis suis apostaticis, per virtutem ejusdem Domini nostri Jesu Christ: qui venturus est judicare vivos et mortuos et sæculum per ignem."
After the third repetition, she pulled up the crucifix and turned around, stopping dead in her tracks as though she was surprised to see him. She tugged the crucifix into her pocket and sent him a crooked, self-assured smile. "That was that, then. Ten gallons of Holy Water is always a good place to start." She sounded tired. Come to think of it, she looked tired, too. Hank sighed, looking at her in a concerned way, that made her look anywhere but him.
"So you're happy now?"
Ace shook her head, much to his dismay, and crossed her arms. "I'll be happy once I have a shotgun that fires rock salt and a colt .45 with silver bullets. Oh, and a stake. And a silver knife to keep under my pillow." He couldn't help but snort in amusement at how crazy that statement would have sounded if he had not seen solid proof of the existence of supernatural creatures. "I'll work on that, trust me. For now, sleep might be advisable?" He suggested, his voice soft in an attempt to coax her subconscious to agree with him. He had found out that it often worked better than trying to tackle her stubbornness head-on. She wavered for a moment, seemingly battling the impending drowsiness, and then nodded hesitantly. "Sleep. Yeah, probably a good idea. I need that. Gotta stay sharp." They'd moved a proper bed into one of the smaller rooms by Hank's lab for her, but she hadn't used it as much as she should have. She was about to walk towards the door that led to the next room, the room where her bed was, when she suddenly stopped. She turned around with some unease to her expression and looked at him, carefully reconsidering what she was about to say.
"Could I… Could I sleep in here by any chance?" She began fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, one that the woman named Ororo had given her since she didn't have any spare ones, and was clearly feeling awkward. "Only it would make me feel safer, you know, with the salt and the holy water and the devil's trap."
Hank had initially been disinclined to allow her this, he did not like sharing his lab with anyone, and there were tests in progress in most cupboards and on the majority of the counters and even his desk. However, when he saw the look in her eyes, the deep, instinctive fear, he gave in. "Very well then. I'll just move your bed in." He wasn't keen on it, obviously, and she knew that. She could see it in his eyes and his movements, she could hear it in his voice. But she wouldn't deny that she was pleased. When he lifted her bed into the room, on his own, a feat that, to her, was impressive and to him nothing, she even managed a soft "Thank you."
He was not going to deny to himself that her gratitude pleased him, even to an extent he was not entirely happy with. Her words brought the slightest smile to his lips as he slowly walked out of his lab, turning off the lights as he went, leaving only the slight bioluminescence and soft buzz of some of his experiments in progress. He might as well call it a day and, for once, go to bed early.