Stiletto III

Charles woke up curled in against Ares, the dip in the bed bringing him closer to the turian in the night. Yawning, he rolled over and stretched before climbing out of bed. He glanced back to see Ares awake and staring at the ceiling before he headed to the bathroom. Stopping in front of the sink, he looked in the mirror, relieved to see the bruising on his cheek stayed at a minimum and the cut near his hairline didn't look too terrible beneath the Medi-gel. "Are we doing anything today?" he called out, moving to the toilet to take a piss.

"You're learning," Ares said.

Grinning, Charles finished up and flushed the toilet. He made his way back out, smile still on his face, and leaned against the wall to look at Ares. "Learning what?"

"How to kill people and not get yourself fucking caught." Ares hadn't moved and didn't bother to tear his gaze from the ceiling.

Charles crossed the floor to stand next to the edge of the bed, looking down at him a second before crawling on top of him, straddling his lap. "Mmm. And which specific lesson are we starting with, pretty sure that covers a pretty broad range of things?"

Ares hummed, wrapping his hands around Charles' waist. His thumbs gently stroked the skin just above Charles' groin. "The fact that you admit that is troubling."

"Why is it troubling?" Charles raised an eyebrow, skin prickling up into goosebumps at Ares' touch, teasing a soft hum of interest from his throat.

"If I'm going to need to teach you so many things that you'd qualify it as a 'pretty broad range,' then I have to wonder how you even manage to get out of bed," Ares teased, finally looking at Charles with a low chuckle, and Charles pouted his lower lip. "At least I know I don't need to teach you that."

Throwing himself sideways off of Ares, Charles sprawled out on the bed, one arm and one leg still draped over the turian and said, "Now you do."

Ares rumbled and rolled onto his side without removing Charles' limbs, leaning down beneath Charles' chin to run his tongue along his throat. "You can stay in bed all day, and I'll still make you learn."

Charles let out a low moan mixed with a chuckle. "And here I half expected you to push me out of the bed." He reached up, sliding a hand under Ares' crest to knead at the exposed hide. "You don't have to make me learn. I want to. You'll just have to be patient with me, there's obviously a lot of shit I'm not going to just know."

Ares hummed in agreement as he palmed Charles' cock, fingertips massaging his balls. "We need to get you a better way to incapacitate people," he growled against Charles' throat. "Bats are too large. Need something collapsible, better concealed."

"Hmmm." Charles' brain stalled a second while he took in the warmth and feel of Ares' hand, making him start to get hard. "Like one of those baton things cops on Shanxi used back in the day?" He sucked in a deep breath, lifting his hips a little against Ares' hand. "Is getting fucked a part of the curriculum?"

"Consider it a payment for my instruction," Ares rumbled, nipping Charles' throat before moving his hand to wrap around Charles' cock, stroking him completely hard. "And yes, we can get you one. They're still common even without being used for law enforcement, though they aren't legal."

Charles snorted, but it shifted into a groan, eyelids drooping.

Growling, Ares rubbed his thumb over the head of Charles' cock. "I'll show you how to conceal it."

Moving his hand to Ares' crest, Charles wrapped his fingers around the centermost spike and squeezed. "Handcuffs, too."

Ares chuckled, the sound husky. "Of course." His free hand slid up Charles' side and around to his back, pulling him in closer. "I'll teach you methods to disable humans. Just have to make sure they don't use them on you, so I'll teach you how to get out."

"Hmmm. Sounds like a good lesson plan. What else?" Charles brought his other hand up to run his fingers over Ares' side, stopping to squeeze his waist.

The sound of Ares' voice at his ear, the idea of the turian teaching him new ways to be more proficient at killing … holy fuck, it was hot. He could already see blood on the backs of his eyelids, already hear the pained groans and whimpers of the men he intended to make pay for the shit they'd done. Growling, Ares shifted to lift Charles' leg over his hip and jacked Charles off with a few, fast strokes, bringing a hiss from him. But then Ares slowed again, and Charles let out a soft, regretful groan.

Ares rumbled. "How to find the right target, when to take someone down at the right time."

Charles tightened his grip on Ares' crest and tilted his own head back a little more, wrapping his ankle more firmly around Ares' waist. "How to keep them conscious longer?" he asked, hearing the strain in his own voice.

Humming, Ares nodded slightly before running his tongue along Charles' collar bones and gripping his ass, squeezing. "There are drugs. Adrenaline. Synthetic shit works the best."

Charles let out a little moan, pushing himself against Ares' hand. "I need targets, or at least places to go, where I can take my time with them. Let them scream." He moaned again, voice husky and low. "God, I love hearing them scream."

Ares chuckled, growling and nipping the thin skin over Charles' collarbones. "You'll be pissed when I say this, but we need to work on your deadlifting. A body is heavy when they're knocked out." He hummed, pausing as he seemed to think. "Unless you want to learn how to gag them and take them by force, but that's more risky than I think you can do this soon."

Charles let out a soft chuckle. "You've got your hand on my cock, there isn't much you can say right now that's going to piss me off. Unless you're really trying. I already planned to start going to the gym more, but I wasn't joking when I said there's only so big a guy with my build can get. So, maybe we'll have to improvise a few things."

Ares gripped Charles' ass harder, nipping at his adam's apple. "I'll teach you to shoot. You won't have to shoot all the time, but you need to know if shit hits the fan."

"Does this mean you're getting me a gun?" Charles squeezed Ares' crest and waist harder before his hand trailed off of to move along his ribs, turning his fingers inward to dig the tips in and drag them back down over Ares' side.

"I already have." Ares let a hot breath out across Charles' throat and chest as he pulled him closer, pressing his cock against Charles. Ares continued to stroke him, moving agonizingly, deliciously slow. "It's on the way to one of my safehouses. You'll need to continue to practice when I leave."

Charles' voice came out strained, nearly cracking. "Where?"

"Any shooting range will work, but I know a place. Asks less questions." Slipping his hand beneath Charles' ass, Ares pulled his head out from beneath Charles' chin. "Get the lube from the side table. You can reach it, you're flexible enough."

Charles chuckled, rolling over in Ares' grip enough to grab the lube. "I think I prefer my razor, I like the blood, but I don't have any issue having a gun on hand, too."

"Good," Ares snatched the bottle from Charles' hand and released him long enough to squeeze lube onto both hands before tossing it away. "I'll teach you how to maintain your weapon," he added with a smirk, letting out a humor-filled growl, and Charles snorted. He wrapped one of his slickened hands back around Charles' cock, sliding up and down his length.

Hissing a little, he pushed himself into Ares' hand and dragged his fingertips over the turian's side again. "You said disable them." He licked his lips, trying to work up a little moisture in his mouth and throat. "What if I just want to kick somebody's ass?"

Ares let out a long rumble as his other hand reached behind Charles, finger dipping between his ass cheeks. "I can start you off, but our bodies are different." He flicked a mandible and smirked at Charles. "You should invite Cammus to spar. He's got a build similar to yours, and every turian has at least some training in hand to hand." He chuckled and lowered his voice, leaning in to lick just at the base of Charles' ear. "I'm sure he'd love a bit of stress relief."

Charles snorted and whispered. "It's because you're all assassins."

Ares huffed a soft laugh and nipped Charles' ear roughly. "We can control ourselves with people we'd much rather fuck." At that, he teased around Charles' asshole with a finger.

Shifting his leg a little higher up Ares' side to make it easier, Charles said, "Being a human fighting like a turian will probably give me an advantage."

Ares hummed in agreement as he eased his finger inside. "We have enough weak spots to match." He growled and squeezed Charles' cock before pumping him fast a few times, making Charles' hips buck a little.

Groaning, Charles tilted his head back further, tightening his leg around Ares and squeezed the turian's waist. "Fighting style will just be different, too. People won't expect it from a human."

Rumbling, Ares nodded and dragged his teeth along Charles' neck, slowly thrusting his finger as he lowered his voice to a husky whisper. "And you smell good with his scent on you. Almost as good as with mine."

Charles huffed, moving a little with Ares' motions. "Anything to cover my own scent, eh?"

Snorting, Ares bit him just hard enough to sting and make him moan, and Charles tightened his hand on Ares' crest. Ares rumbled, tongue swiping over the bite. "What can I say? I like the way you smell when you've just been fucked. Just gives me a challenge to try and cover it again."

Charles laughed. "Mmm. How 'bout you fuck me now?"

Ares didn't speak as he released Charles' cock and pulled his finger from Charles' asshole. Growling against Charles' neck, he lifted onto an elbow and pulled Charles closer, shifting until his cock slid between Charles' legs. Ares lined himself up and pushed in, pulling Charles onto him with a hand on his ass, growling low.

Charles groaned, shifting a little to more easily accommodate Ares, pushing himself into the turian, savoring the burn of stretching scar tissue. He swallowed and licked his lips. "Tell me more."

After retrieving the Stiletto III from his safehouse, Ares had brought it back to Charles and handed it to him, telling him it was to be an extension of his arm and so his responsibility to care for. Charles had taken a few minutes to look over the pistol while in the apartment, but he'd left it in the case for the time being. Ares told him the Stiletto III came from a turian weapons manufacturer, Haliat Armory, but plenty of humans carried them, so he figured Charles could manage.

He took Charles to a shooting range on Zakera Ward, it wasn't exactly close to the apartment, but close enough for Charles to get to regularly without any real issue. It didn't look like a very big place, but it appeared well kept. He followed Ares inside, gun case in hand, and took in the storefront. Weapons and accessories lined the walls in locked cases and on shelves behind the counter. An asari—looking well into her matron years—and an older turian stood behind the counter.

The turian looked up first even though he stood further away, halting in his work of cleaning a rifle he'd disassembled and laid out on a piece of cloth. His mandibles fluttered as his gaze moved from Ares to Charles, and he smiled, turning his attention back to the rifle. The asari kept her gaze on them, though, standing at the center of the counter with a smile on her face as she waited expectantly.

"Back, again, Raetor?" The asari turned to the side and leaned an arm on the counter. She smirked at Ares as she jerked her chin toward Charles. "Wanting to show your friend the range?"

Ares rumbled and nodded as he walked to the counter. "We need the range to cover some basics. Might even get far enough to work on maintenance," he added with a glance over his shoulder toward Charles.

He'd lingered back a little, looking over the place, but when he caught Ares' glance, Charles walked over to stand with him. He offered the asari a smile, but he didn't say anything, feeling out of his element in a store filled with guns. Despite his father's history in the Alliance and having grown up around his dad's military friends, Charles never dealt with guns himself. He'd watched them at shooting ranges a couple of times and saw his dad clean his weapons almost obsessively, especially when shitfaced and lamenting his discharge from the Alliance. He didn't involve Charles in any of it, though. He'd never involved Charles in anything other than beating the shit out of him and finding new ways to tell him that he wasn't a real man.

The turian behind the counter rumbled, the curious sound drawing Charles' gaze to him. He set down a piece of the weapon and walked over to stand next to the asari, humming softly as he looked over Charles. Shifting a little under the older man's gaze, Charles watched him, something about his posture sparking a certainty in Charles' mind that the turian was one of those who stuck around the military long after his mandatory service. Maybe even fought in the First Contact War.

When his gaze stopped on the gun case in Charles' hand, the turian's mandibles fluttered. "Mind if I take a look?" he asked, motioning at the case with a hand.

Charles glanced at Ares, grip tightening on the gun case. Ares gave him a slight nod, tilting his head toward the other turian, so Charles sat the case on the counter. He popped the latches open and lifted the lid, turning it around for the man to see. The turian moved closer to the counter, letting out a low whistle in his subvocals. He glanced over the weapon before bringing a hand up, stopping just above the Stiletto III. Charles tensed, brow twitching, and the man looked up, glancing back and forth between Charles and Ares. He can't really say why, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but he doesn't really want the man to touch his gun. Still, if Ares said so, he would, so he glanced at Ares again.

"It's your weapon," Ares said, watching Charles as he shrugged. "You make the decision."

Charles shifted around uncomfortably for a moment, but then he shook his head. "Sorry, sir, but I'd rather you didn't."

The turian chuckled and nodded, closing the gun case and sliding it back toward Charles. "Fair enough." His gaze shifted to Ares. "Will you be shooting, too?"

"Not really. Just plan on training," Ares said, and the other turian nodded.

Moving down to a locked crate, the asari opened it and pulled something out. She came back and tossed a key card to Ares. "Everything should be in place already. For a basic setup, that is. Anything specific otherwise?"

"No, that's fine." Ares hummed as he looked at the key card and nodded to the other two. "I take it you have a cleaning and maintenance kit?"

"For a Stiletto?" The turian rumbled in thought before nodding, pointing out towards the shop over Charles' shoulder. "Yeah, we should have one. Want me to grab it while you shoot?"

Ares nodded and nudged Charles before heading for the back of the store. Charles followed him, taking in a few of the stickers covering the large door, snorting softly at one reading, 'You can pry my gun from my cold dead hands'. Ares swiped the key card through the reader, and the door cracked open when the indicator changed green. The lights flickered on when Ares opened the door the rest of the way and stepped inside, illuminating four stalls with long partition walls. The range was a lot longer than Charles' would've guessed, seeing the building from outside and the cozy storefront.

Along the wall next to the door, a table sat holding eyewear and noise cancellation earmuffs. Ares stopped at the table but waved Charles on to the furthest stall. Nodding, Charles made his way down and sat the gun case on the counter. Ares joined him a moment later, setting eyewear and earmuffs down next to the Stiletto III.

"Take out your weapon," he said as he turned to a command console on the stall's wall, typing into the console to bring the target closer to them.

Charles popped the latches on the case and picked up the gun, watching as it whirred to life and unfolded itself. He turned it over in his hand, locating the safety and making sure it was engaged, that much, at least, he knew. He had a basic understanding of gun safety and how the weapons worked. He knew there was a block of metal inside which the gun shaved off pieces from, using a mass effect field to change the mass of the tiny shards of metal while projecting them at the target … but hell if he knew what that really meant. Feeling Ares' gaze on him, Charles glanced up.

"Put the human ones on." Ares rumbled, holding his hand out for the pistol.

Charles handed it over and picked up the eyewear, sliding it on his face and fiddling with the strap wrapping around the back of his head until it felt close to comfortable. He bit back a snide comment about how stupid he felt and picked up the earmuffs, draping them over his neck until Ares told him to put them on, too.

Ares held the—tiny in comparison—pistol in his hands and looked down the sights, humming as he then lowered it and looked over its sides. "How's the weight on it?" he asked, flipping the pistol in his hand to offer the grip to Charles.

Charles took the Stiletto III back and shrugged a little. "I don't really have much to compare it to. It feels okay, I guess."

Ares released a slight breath through his nose before shifting on his feet. "Hold your arm out straight with the pistol in hand."

Doing as Ares said, he held the gun out, aimed down range. He felt sure if he stayed like that long enough, his arm would eventually get tired, but then again, it would even if he held nothing in his hand. Ares stepped forward and slapped his hand against the bottom of the grip, jostling Charles unexpectedly. Sliding a foot back to balance himself, Charles looked at Ares with a raised eyebrow, confused by what the hell the turian was doing but didn't say anything.

"Alright. You're fine." Ares grabbed the other pair of earmuffs and pulled them on, resting them around his neck. "We'll start with stance and grip." He lifted a brow plate. "Show me how you think you hold a gun."

Letting out a soft scoff, Charles turned a little to the side and brought his left hand up, cupping the butt of the pistol in his other palm, fingers curled in around the outside of his right hand. He made sure his elbows stayed loose and shifted his feet a little further apart. Ares rumbled as he watched Charles, using his foot to nudge Charles' feet into a better position.

"Put on your earmuffs and show me what we're working with," Ares said as he situated his own over his ears and leaned back against the stall wall, crossing his arms.

Charles lowered the weapon to the table and put on his earmuffs before picking it up again. He glanced at Ares before turning his attention to the target down range. The only other gun he'd ever fired belonged to Ares, back in the burning factory on Shanxi. Hell, it was the only other gun he'd ever even held. Swallowing, he knew it wasn't going to be pretty, but he did his best to aim for the relatively shapeless, non-species specific, silhouette on the target. He squeezed the trigger, the recoil slamming the weapon back in his grip but not too bad. It didn't make his hand instantly numb the way Ares' gun had, so he counted it as a win.

He looked at the little hole left in the paper on the lower, right side of the darkened area of the target and adjusted before trying again. He fired off several shots, the earmuffs not quite able to really keep the loud bark from reaching his ears. Each shot he took, though, seemed further and further off the mark, moving a little higher up on the target until it hit the white spot above the 'shoulder' of the silhouette.

Ares held up a hand to stop Charles before stepping forward and pulling Charles' earmuffs down to speak, "You need to leave a longer period of time between shots. It's causing some of your shots to still be affected by the recoil." He wrapped his hand around Charles' and leaned over his shoulder, adjusting Charles' grip on the pistol. He moved Charles' left hand from beneath the handle to the front, directing Charles to cup his right hand with his left, thumb parallel to the gun's barrel. "At this range, you don't have to account so much for drag. Still, you want to aim just below the target because of the buck of recoil. Like," he just barely nudged Charles' pistol lower and added, "this. We'll worry more about drag later. Aim for the bigger targets first, like the ones on the chest." He replaced Charles' earmuffs and stepped back, nodding at him to go ahead.

Charles took a second to look at where his other shots hit before adjusting himself and taking another. It hit the target in the shoulder area, he paused a second and readjusted again before firing. After a couple more attempts, he hit the target roughly in the chest, off to the right.

Charles looped his arm through Ares' as they left the hotel room, heading down the hall toward the elevators. It'd been a long day at work, and Charles felt tired, but he wanted to go out for dinner instead of ordering in more room service. The fact it didn't take too much to convince Ares told him the turian started feeling restless and probably wouldn't stick around the Citadel much longer. It left Charles a little sad, but he understood, and it was just a part of being involved with Ares—with any assassin, he imagined.

Still, even with as rocky as things had been for Ares over the last few days, Charles really enjoyed the extended stay. And, Ares really seemed to take to the idea of teaching Charles, even if he gave him a lot of shit in the process. Besides for taking him to the shooting range, Ares sat down and walked Charles through all of the programs he'd given him and bought him one of those collapsible batons and handcuffs. Later, they were supposed to run through a few restraint holds, too. Maybe eventually Charles would be good enough Ares felt like taking him out on a job with him.

"Robert!"

At first, the name didn't mean anything more to Charles than the feminine, turian voice who called out. But just as it started to click in his head, Ares froze, and Charles' steps faltered. He stopped, glancing up at Ares, dread flooding his veins and turning them to ice. His gaze slid away from Ares and back over his shoulder, spotting Maela standing just outside of one of the rooms, six doors down from theirs, luggage at her feet.

"Robert," she said again, a smile sweeping over her face as she waved. She glanced into the opened door before stepping away from the suitcase, starting toward Charles.

Shifting his arm free of Ares', he reached up and squeezed the turian's shoulder, whispering, "Just go, keep walking. I'll catch up with you later."

Ares' mandibles were pressed tightly to his jaw, almost looking painful. He nodded and started walking again, barely glancing back over his shoulder to softly say, "You still smell like me." He kept moving though, his long stride swiftly putting distance between him and his sister.

Charles sucked in a deep breath, hoping enough time had passed since Maela saw Ares for her to not recognize his scent. There wasn't anything he could do about it either way. He slapped a smile on his face and turned back to Maela, moving down the hall toward her. "Maela … it's good to see you again."

"I didn't know you were staying here," she said, but her smile faltered as they drew nearer, her nose plates visibly shifting as she took in his scent. She blinked a few times before giving Charles a curious look. "But I guess you were visiting the Citadel too, huh?"

Charles' smile stuck to his face with well-practiced ease after years of dealing with pissed off and annoying customers. "Uh, yeah, I had some things to take care of on the Presidium and this hotel is pretty nice." He made sure to say 'Presidium' instead of 'Citadel', not wanting to outright agree with her presumption that he didn't live there. He cleared his throat a little, reflexively starting to turn to look after Ares' retreating form but caught himself, returning his attention to Maela. "Where's the happy husband?"

She laughed, subvocals rumbling with joy as she pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "He packs last minute, so I'm waiting up for him." She glanced the way Ares left before giving him a questioning trill. "It's unfortunate your friend wasn't able to join us when you were down at the park." She chuckled but something about it sounded a bit forced. "You could always have invited him."

Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, Charles allowed himself a quick glance down the hall, relieved to find Ares nowhere in sight. He let out a soft chuckle and said, "He was in the middle of something else, left me alone to wander." He glanced back at Maela, but something about her seemed unconvinced even though she appeared to try and hide it with a smile and thrumming rumble. Dropping his hand to his side, he shoved it in his pocket. "Somehow, I managed to stay out of trouble." He gave her a big grin, hoping to put her back at ease as he took a slow breath in through his nose. "I only crashed one wedding reception."

She rumbled with a light chuckle but wrung her hands. "Yeah, not every day that someone rents a park for a wedding, I guess." She glanced behind her as Dax stepped out of the room.

Dax carried out another piece of luggage and stooped to grab Malea's as well, but he paused a second when he caught sight of Charles and smiled. Charles lifted his free hand in a wave, offering the man a smile and idly wondering if he should offer to help carry their bags down.

Maela's purr brought Charles' attention back to her. It seemed the sight of her husband put her at ease, her hands dropping back to her sides as she turned back to Charles. "Well, I guess this is goodbye."

A flash of sadness ran through Charles, making him swallow and suck in a shallow breath. He didn't want her to go, and it seemed like an incredibly stupid thing to think. Shit, he really wished he could tell her the truth about Ares, wished Ares could have his family in his life again. He couldn't, though, and knowing Maela had been so close to him the entire time they were at the hotel probably just fucked up Ares' head even worse.

She smiled, the gesture still seeming forced. "I might have said it before, but it was nice to meet you, Robert."

His smile slipped a little, and he swallowed, nodding before glancing down at his feet. He took a slow breath, trying to calm the flood of emotion, knowing his scent only made the situation more awkward and probably confused the hell out of the woman. He raised his gaze to hers again, his voice a little softer than intended when he said, "It was a pleasure to meet you, as well. Thank you again for inviting me over, I really enjoyed myself. I'm sorry I had to slip away while you were still opening presents … I told someone, your sister I think?" He held his hand out to her. "Anyway, it was really wonderful being there, and again, you looked stunning in your dress."

Her mandibles fluttered in the shy way of hers, and she dipped her head before taking his hand. "Thank you, again. Take care, Robert." She looked over at Dax as he stepped up beside her.

Dax smiled and nodded in greeting. "Hello, Robert."

Charles returned his smile and nod. "Dax, it's good to see you." He cleared his throat a little stepping aside. "Well, I'll let you two get on your way. Congratulations again."

"Thank you," Dax said, handing over Maela's bag when she all but pulled it against her as if she couldn't get away from Charles fast enough. Dax looked at Maela and purred, though concern started to creep into his face, coloring his subvocals. "Ready?"

Maela gave her husband a soft smile and nodded, taking his free hand and leading the way to the elevators.

Charles stood there a moment, watching her go before sucking in a deep breath and rubbing his hands over his face. "Fuck," he muttered.

He sure didn't want to risk further upsetting Maela by taking the elevator down with them, and he wasn't even sure if Ares took the elevator himself. Charles glanced back at their hotel room, he could duck back inside for a few minutes, but it'd just seem weird if they were watching. Instead, he decided to kill time by sending Ares a message to figure out where exactly he went.

"Down the hall," Ares' responding message said. "Did they take the elevator down already or go back to their room?"

Charles glanced back down the hall just in time to see the couple disappear into the elevator. Hitting 'reply', he told Ares as much. A moment later, Ares stepped out from around the corner at the end of the hall and started walking toward Charles. He stopped, looking at the floor indicator on the elevator before glancing back at Charles. Heading down the hall, Charles focused on taking steadying breaths, trying to push away the last of whatever the fuck he was feeling.

She's not your sister, Charles.

Stopping next to Ares, he raked a hand through his hair. "Shit, I'm sorry. I had no clue they were here."

"It's fine," Ares said, and despite everything, Charles knew it was a lie. He turned away and stared at the golden doors but didn't press the command to call the elevator.

Charles cleared his throat and sucked in a deep breath. "I can tell she smelled you on me … but she probably wouldn't remember your scent, right?" As soon as he said it, he knew he was wrong, but the panic writhing around in the pit of his stomach made him reach for even the hint of a silver lining.

Ares frowned, a sad rumble filling the air around them. "She probably wouldn't remember me even if she saw me." Again, a lie, and it left a terrible, acidic taste in the back of Charles' throat.

Charles nodded, his gut telling him that they were both lying to themselves as much as each other, but there was nothing to be done about it, and facing the truth just then very well might break Ares. He chewed on his lip, watching Ares as the turian looked at his own reflection in the elevator doors. It was a long moment before Ares managed to tamp down his subvocals, reach forward, and press the elevator call button. Charles ached inside, desperately wanting to wrap Ares up in his arms, but something told him, just then, it wouldn't be something he'd appreciate too much.