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perididdle"Daken," the word escaped from Drake's mouth with a disgusted tone, "What do you want?"
"Now, Draken, just because I decide to show up, unannounced, with nothing but a free schedule and and empty wallet, doesn't mean I want anything," Daken put a cigarette between his lips, using a match to light the exposed end.
"And I knew I was jumping to conclusions," Drake rolled his eyes, looking out from his sport on the porch, where they'd moved shortly after Morca ascended the stairs. Amit had taken the job assigned to him by a very reluctant Drake, and had shortly ran off.
"You're trying to get some bint out of a prison," Daken exhaled, smoke trailing from his nose. "You can't do it alone. The sheriff might be a complete idiot but, apparently, his brother has some kind of smarts."
"His brother…" Drake stopped and shook his head. "Do you want a job, Daken?"
"Well, since you asked so nicely," Daken smirked and turned an ear to the door as it opened and slammed behind them. Morca slowly walked up, standing on Daken's left side and staying as far away from Drake as it appeared that she could. There was a long pause.
"He can go to the clan and help Aia and Trey when it comes to keeping Hawk there for as long as possible," Morca said, staring out across Drake's property. There was silence as Daken smirked and Drake eyed Morca with the same surprise he had earlier in the living room. And then in one quick motion, the woman took the cigarette from Daken's lips and stuck it between her own. She inhaled deeply, exhaling with an 'ugh' expression. "He could knock him out, or something. A good hit should do it in for any Garner"
"Morca-"
"Drakie, don't argue with me," Morca snapped, looking edgy. She'd done all she could to cover her eye, but it was still swelled and visibly black and blue. But she felt embarrassed and weak, putting her in easily annoyed, cigarette-craving mood.
"That's good, then," Daken had taken the sudden absence of his cigarette in stride, and now grinned at Morca. "You okay, luv?"
"Oh, yeah," she took a drag, "I'm fine. Didn't you see me skipping around, all 'la-de-da' when I came out here?"
"Amit's an ass, tealeaf," Daken muttered, his tone holding the slightest edge. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it. "So, Draken, it would appear this lovely lady has employed me into your little mission. Pay?"
Drake looked annoyed. "A few hundred."
"Eh," Daken watched Morca stomp out the finished cigarette and offered her another one. The girl took it and the lighter he handed her but stuck the cigarette behind her ear like a pen, and pocketed the lighter. "I'd expect more from you, Draken, you're always just waiting to get the job done right. But, fine, tell me when I'm needed and I'll rush right over."
With an eye roll, the man turned to leave, but not without grinning at Morca first. She smiled back, causing Drake to grimace with annoyance. "Oh, shove it, Drake. He's not evil."
"When he wants to be," the man muttered, glancing over at Morca but finding she was walking off, toward the stairs on the porch that led to the back yard. "What the hell is going on, Morca?"
"What?" She glanced over her shoulder, taking the second cigarette and lighting it as gracefully as she could. "I see nothing different, Drake."
"You didn't tell me."
"About Amit?" Morca rolled her eyes as Drake caught up with her. "Oh, yes, because I knew you'd take it so well, Mr. I'm A Slave Master And I Used To Kill For A Living, that I could wait a bit. I was doing perfectly fine, anyways, so I don't see what the big deal is."
"Morca," Draken's voice was louder than normal, and a tad more forceful, "How long has he been doing that?"
"What's it to you?" Morca stopped and turned to Drake. "A few months after the twins were born, we got into a fight. They became more frequent up to now, and I'm so goddamn used to them that when I was in there I wasn't putting on an act with the casualness. There, see, it's not very bad, I'm fine, the kids are fine, so everything is okay."
"You should have told me."
"We've covered this, Drake."
"I could have stopped it," the man jerked the cigarette from Morca's lips and threw it on the ground, stomping it out amidst groaned protests. "You're different. You never smoked before-"
"Well, actually…"
"You're stronger than Amit. I know. But he obviously found a way to hit and run."
"Work on those punning skills and you'll be famous," Morca said sarcastically. She attempted to stalk off, but Drake grabbed her arm. She stared at him, eyes wide as she tried to figure out what to say. "Drake, it was something I had to handle on my own. I didn't want to tell you because it would mean admitting to myself that I can't do everything alone. I'm fine. My eye will heal, just like it has before. I may have to live through a bruised arm and a punch to the stomach once I go back to the clan. I can handle it, Drakie, I'll be fine," she glanced down at the remains of her cigarette.
"As for the smoking, I do it when I'm stressed. And right now I really, really needed that one you smooshed, so do you happen to have another?"
"Now, Draken, just because I decide to show up, unannounced, with nothing but a free schedule and and empty wallet, doesn't mean I want anything," Daken put a cigarette between his lips, using a match to light the exposed end.
"And I knew I was jumping to conclusions," Drake rolled his eyes, looking out from his sport on the porch, where they'd moved shortly after Morca ascended the stairs. Amit had taken the job assigned to him by a very reluctant Drake, and had shortly ran off.
"You're trying to get some bint out of a prison," Daken exhaled, smoke trailing from his nose. "You can't do it alone. The sheriff might be a complete idiot but, apparently, his brother has some kind of smarts."
"His brother…" Drake stopped and shook his head. "Do you want a job, Daken?"
"Well, since you asked so nicely," Daken smirked and turned an ear to the door as it opened and slammed behind them. Morca slowly walked up, standing on Daken's left side and staying as far away from Drake as it appeared that she could. There was a long pause.
"He can go to the clan and help Aia and Trey when it comes to keeping Hawk there for as long as possible," Morca said, staring out across Drake's property. There was silence as Daken smirked and Drake eyed Morca with the same surprise he had earlier in the living room. And then in one quick motion, the woman took the cigarette from Daken's lips and stuck it between her own. She inhaled deeply, exhaling with an 'ugh' expression. "He could knock him out, or something. A good hit should do it in for any Garner"
"Morca-"
"Drakie, don't argue with me," Morca snapped, looking edgy. She'd done all she could to cover her eye, but it was still swelled and visibly black and blue. But she felt embarrassed and weak, putting her in easily annoyed, cigarette-craving mood.
"That's good, then," Daken had taken the sudden absence of his cigarette in stride, and now grinned at Morca. "You okay, luv?"
"Oh, yeah," she took a drag, "I'm fine. Didn't you see me skipping around, all 'la-de-da' when I came out here?"
"Amit's an ass, tealeaf," Daken muttered, his tone holding the slightest edge. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it. "So, Draken, it would appear this lovely lady has employed me into your little mission. Pay?"
Drake looked annoyed. "A few hundred."
"Eh," Daken watched Morca stomp out the finished cigarette and offered her another one. The girl took it and the lighter he handed her but stuck the cigarette behind her ear like a pen, and pocketed the lighter. "I'd expect more from you, Draken, you're always just waiting to get the job done right. But, fine, tell me when I'm needed and I'll rush right over."
With an eye roll, the man turned to leave, but not without grinning at Morca first. She smiled back, causing Drake to grimace with annoyance. "Oh, shove it, Drake. He's not evil."
"When he wants to be," the man muttered, glancing over at Morca but finding she was walking off, toward the stairs on the porch that led to the back yard. "What the hell is going on, Morca?"
"What?" She glanced over her shoulder, taking the second cigarette and lighting it as gracefully as she could. "I see nothing different, Drake."
"You didn't tell me."
"About Amit?" Morca rolled her eyes as Drake caught up with her. "Oh, yes, because I knew you'd take it so well, Mr. I'm A Slave Master And I Used To Kill For A Living, that I could wait a bit. I was doing perfectly fine, anyways, so I don't see what the big deal is."
"Morca," Draken's voice was louder than normal, and a tad more forceful, "How long has he been doing that?"
"What's it to you?" Morca stopped and turned to Drake. "A few months after the twins were born, we got into a fight. They became more frequent up to now, and I'm so goddamn used to them that when I was in there I wasn't putting on an act with the casualness. There, see, it's not very bad, I'm fine, the kids are fine, so everything is okay."
"You should have told me."
"We've covered this, Drake."
"I could have stopped it," the man jerked the cigarette from Morca's lips and threw it on the ground, stomping it out amidst groaned protests. "You're different. You never smoked before-"
"Well, actually…"
"You're stronger than Amit. I know. But he obviously found a way to hit and run."
"Work on those punning skills and you'll be famous," Morca said sarcastically. She attempted to stalk off, but Drake grabbed her arm. She stared at him, eyes wide as she tried to figure out what to say. "Drake, it was something I had to handle on my own. I didn't want to tell you because it would mean admitting to myself that I can't do everything alone. I'm fine. My eye will heal, just like it has before. I may have to live through a bruised arm and a punch to the stomach once I go back to the clan. I can handle it, Drakie, I'll be fine," she glanced down at the remains of her cigarette.
"As for the smoking, I do it when I'm stressed. And right now I really, really needed that one you smooshed, so do you happen to have another?"
