[He lowers his gun, taking off protective goggles and headset. He studies Aubrey for a moment. He didn't catch the words but he did the expression.] You'll be glad to know it's a simple Glock 21 for human targets.
My revolver is at home. [The agency found it was better to use older guns when dealing with fae and other supernaturals due to the relative ease of making specialized ammo.]
[ Well, that was certainly a relief even without him being fairly sure in the knowledge that he hadn't done anything worthy of being pumped full of iron lately. ]
I wasn't aware that I had cause for concern. [ He frowns, a superficial expression that doesn't really fit with the rest of his body language. He tends to overexaggerate when he's hiding things -- or just actively avoiding them. Difficult to really be sure which is the case here. ]
[As far as Victor knew, Aubrey was being a relatively good boy. The worst thing he might have done in the last few days was flush when someone was using the shower.
Victor simply arches an eyebrow before gesturing over to the target that's seen better days years ago.] I would hope that's not a knock at my aim, Filimor. [He puts on the safety before cleaning his mess up.] You've been a perfectly good boy, otherwise. I'm not sure what your superiors are saying, but Helene doesn't have a word to say. [About professional conduct, anyway.]
I wouldn't dream of it. [ Particularly when he knows, better than most, just how good of a shot he was. ]
I think they've all resigned themselves to certain realities and since my professional conduct is largely immpecable, they'll just have to lump bite their collective tongues. [ If he takes no small amount of pleasure in this fact, it is more than deserved.
He moves away from his position at the wall, focus drifting to the target momentarily before returning to Victor. ]
Good boy. I won't have to remind you with a nerf gun. Though you'd look sumptuous in cream with a neon foam bullet on your forehead.
Ah. [His mess is largely cleaned up, save the target. But that's something minor, really.] I suppose they'll watch us like hawks now. Or have been. Pity. I'd say we put on a better now but I'm feeling a little selfish.
The edible kind, of course. [ Somewhere quiet, away from prying eyes.
Not so much because he gave any sort of damn about being scrutiny, of course -- as evidenced by that one rather memorable experiment in one of the break rooms a few weeks earlier -- but because there were matters that needed to be discussed -- matters involving their current case -- that would be best suited to somewhere private. ]
No martini lunch? Pity. I could use a buzz. Thai or Indian?
[He enjoyed foisting exotic fair on Aubrey. Though quite a few agents did enjoy their curry.] Perhaps Moroccan?
[Of course not. Being caught by the junior agent in the 'taste test' probably did raise a few eyebrows, but really it wasn't something they hadn't done prior. But privacy due to work was something he relished. That was important.]
[It was the one thing in his teen hood he enjoyed, Victor recalled, was going to the Indian joint after following around a group of agents. Even if they were insanely cruel to the rookie the first few times.]
I could always use a little umbrella for these little rain showers.
Mmm, I may steal from your plate. Should I pick up anything before we wander in that direction?
Are you going to unleash your claws, darling? [They quietly move from the target range of the complex to the elevator, he hits the 'g' button.] We'd be in public.
[ He hums, a noncommital sort of noise. Perhaps favorite wasn't quite the right word, considering. Favorite implied preferential treatment, and -- no, that wasn't quite right. ]
She has high hopes for you. [ High hopes that probably didn't really involve having a Fae attached to his hip, but one can't have everything.]
You managed to make it through the first few years of our association without garroting me with my tie. And we both know how much you'd have liked to try.
Attacks centered in that particular region tend to make quite the impression, regardless of their success.
I suppose it didn't really help that other things started happening soon afterward. You could have claimed temporary lapse of sanity. [ He pushes his hands into his pockets; bare, somehow he'd fallen out of the habit of covering them here, even though the awareness of the danger -- or, at the very least, inconvienience -- present had hardly dimished.
Still, there was something oddly comforting in being surrounded by people that knew what you were and, more importantly, what that could mean. ] They wouldn't have blamed you.
[He fires a few rounds, the aim fairly accurate before he's satisfied and he's used his round of clips. Safety is put on and the area is cleaned up before the gun slips in it's hostler. He's mildly surprised to see David as he walks out.] Hey.
I'm kind of surprised you use a civilian target range. Doesn't your job have one? [And now that he's found you, he's going to ignore the actual thing he wants to ask for a while.]
We do, but I like working here for familiarity with other gun users. I like listening to the conversation in the lobby. Best place to find those who enjoy telling tall tales.
Comments
My revolver is at home. [The agency found it was better to use older guns when dealing with fae and other supernaturals due to the relative ease of making specialized ammo.]
I wasn't aware that I had cause for concern. [ He frowns, a superficial expression that doesn't really fit with the rest of his body language. He tends to overexaggerate when he's hiding things -- or just actively avoiding them. Difficult to really be sure which is the case here. ]
Edited at 2013-01-26 05:58 pm (UTC)
Victor simply arches an eyebrow before gesturing over to the target that's seen better days years ago.] I would hope that's not a knock at my aim, Filimor. [He puts on the safety before cleaning his mess up.] You've been a perfectly good boy, otherwise. I'm not sure what your superiors are saying, but Helene doesn't have a word to say. [About professional conduct, anyway.]
I think they've all resigned themselves to certain realities and since my professional conduct is largely immpecable, they'll just have to lump bite their collective tongues. [ If he takes no small amount of pleasure in this fact, it is more than deserved.
He moves away from his position at the wall, focus drifting to the target momentarily before returning to Victor. ]
So, I was thinking, lunch?
Edited at 2013-01-27 01:57 pm (UTC)
Ah. [His mess is largely cleaned up, save the target. But that's something minor, really.] I suppose they'll watch us like hawks now. Or have been. Pity. I'd say we put on a better now but I'm feeling a little selfish.
And what kind of lunch were you thinking of?
Not so much because he gave any sort of damn about being scrutiny, of course -- as evidenced by that one rather memorable experiment in one of the break rooms a few weeks earlier -- but because there were matters that needed to be discussed -- matters involving their current case -- that would be best suited to somewhere private. ]
[He enjoyed foisting exotic fair on Aubrey. Though quite a few agents did enjoy their curry.] Perhaps Moroccan?
[Of course not. Being caught by the junior agent in the 'taste test' probably did raise a few eyebrows, but really it wasn't something they hadn't done prior. But privacy due to work was something he relished. That was important.]
I'll buy you one of those drinks with a little umbrella.
Moroccan. I've a craving for some kefta and pastili.
I could always use a little umbrella for these little rain showers.
Mmm, I may steal from your plate. Should I pick up anything before we wander in that direction?
[ He pushes his hands into his jacket pockets, waiting for the doors to close. ]
Besides, I'm supposed to be proving myself worthy of Mother's favorite. Which would be rather difficult if I made a mess.
[Victor leans back on the elevator's wall, eyes glancing up at at the numbers.]
I'm her favorite? Really.
She has high hopes for you. [ High hopes that probably didn't really involve having a Fae attached to his hip, but one can't have everything.]
Edited at 2013-01-29 05:40 pm (UTC)
I don't know why she'd consider me, anyway. I'd be more of a liability than asset. [The elevator dings when they reach their arrival.]
[He steps out of the elevator, gesturing 'after you' with his arm. Somehow he can't even look at Aubrey's eyes.]
I suppose it didn't really help that other things started happening soon afterward. You could have claimed temporary lapse of sanity. [ He pushes his hands into his pockets; bare, somehow he'd fallen out of the habit of covering them here, even though the awareness of the danger -- or, at the very least, inconvienience -- present had hardly dimished.
Still, there was something oddly comforting in being surrounded by people that knew what you were and, more importantly, what that could mean. ] They wouldn't have blamed you.
Edited at 2013-01-31 01:59 pm (UTC)