milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Parker rolls his shoulders and scans the room. He's wearing long sleeves and smells faintly of hospital. He's hurt. He's here.

He wonders if it's a theme.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Don't be," Parker waves it off, but looks at her with eyes that are a little too serious. "What is it with Sands?"

"It's really very complicated. Why are you asking?"

Doesn't mean she won't tell him. She just wants to know how much he knows.

"I'm interested." He means I worry, but I would never tell you that. I think you can deal with this on your own, you're a big girl, but I know about men who do what I do for a living. Doesn't say any of it.

"We piss eachother off a fair bit. I've attacked him, he's attacked me. It's like that saying, 'opposites attract'. Sort of like an explosion when we're together. Bad, in that it generally results in pain for both involved, but wonderful, because the flame is so pretty to watch."

Exhales because she didn't mean to tell him this much. Never tells anyone quite that much.

"He's a very fucked up man, Parker."

Parker blinks. Takes it all in, quietly. "Sounds pretty," and dangerous. He thinks, says, "Men who play his 'games' usually are fucked up."

"Yeah. But he's rather more then the average. I really don't know how to explain it."

Shrugs.

"We've not killed each other yet."

Parker's lips twist, maybe a smile, maybe sympathy.

"More than average?" He's asking, he's warning, he's also just curious. One day the cat that curiosity will be Parker and he knows it.

"I'm not going to tell. That's up to him."

Even though she's seen it, she's been there, inside his head with the drills and the screaming.

"But we're still working things out."

Shrugging, he says, "Well, whatever pumps your tires."

"Whatever - what?"

She blinks at him in confusion.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only