[ something triggers in her, something hurt and wounded and raw, the memory of all the people who have left or turned their backs or disappeared in her life. her father, her tutors, what passed as friends in her childhood. her world got smaller and smaller until all that was left was daisy and her mother and whatever poor soul happened to be tasked with keeping watch on her that day.
something triggers in her, and she realizes she doesn't want to be left behind. if someone's going to leave, it's because she makes them. so when he pulls her out and wraps his hand around her arm, daisy yanks it back, out of his grip and his reach, and turns to go the other way. let them catch her, what did he care? at least he'd save his own arrogant skin. ]
Fuck you.
[ #adult.
she pushes open the door to the stairwell and begins the climb up. she'll take the roof. he can do whatever he wants. ]
[ oh my god, why is it always dramatic with her? always. it never fails. he doesn't let her get too far up the staircase before he grabs her again, cinching down hard. they aren't going to do this. ]
Would you trust me to know what I am doing? Just once. Trust me.
[ he's irritated and he'll admit that he spoke out of turn later on when he speaks with his handlers but he cannot let her just go off on her own. that is a death wish. ]
I'm not going to let anyone touch you but you have to let me do my job. [ please. ] Come on. We are wasting time.
[ she's not dramatic. she's — okay, she's dramatic, but it's for a good reason. at least that's what daisy tells herself as she bristles under his touch, feet stomping down the stairs as he pulls her back down to the main floor. ]
Let — go — of — me!
[ he does not. in fact, he only grips harder, clearly agitated by her mini tantrum — which, in turn, only makes daisy more annoyed at the entire situation. he doesn't have anything to be annoyed by! he's the one who wants to leave! she's trying to go! let! her! go! ]
You don't even want to be here!
[ she could get away, if she really wanted to. even if she can't pry his hand off her arm, she could force him to let go. she could push him backwards hard enough that he'd have no choice but to relinquish control. but she doesn't. she doesn't push, she doesn't yank, doesn't quake him ... for reasons that she can't even come up with. doesn't matter why. she just doesn't do it. ]
You don't even want this stupid job!
[ god she's like a five year old throwing a fit because she's not allowed to put her fingers in the electrical socket ... please stop ... ]
[ he grabs at both of her shoulders know, yanking her closer and lowering his voice. she's being too loud and they're going to draw attention to themselves. he has no idea how many of those men are trawling through this building but standing here and arguing with her is not doing them any favors. ]
You know nothing about me.
[ he glares, eyes hard and expression flinty. ] So, here's some basic facts: I am the only one here to help you right now. And I want to help but you have to let me. Now, if I have to carry you down the fire escape I will but we are not going to the roof and I am not leaving without you.
[ so, get your shit together because they gotta go. ] You can berate me and talk down to me later all you want. I'm used to it. But right now, I'm in charge.
[ that she knows nothing about him. he doesn't let her know anything about him. she tried — when he was first hired, brought on as an interim solution when daisy's last bodyguard (nanny figure) had stormed out in a huff after she'd beaten him too badly at one too many games of battleship, she'd tried to get to know him. she'd tried to learn about his hobbies, his interests; she'd tried to make him laugh, to include him in her sillier escapes, to show him that while she craved freedom, she wasn't an idiot.
but he'd shut her down and stonewalled her out, unemotional and unyielding at every turn, and so daisy had stopped trying. she'd started treating him like the concrete statue he pretended to be, as if her snippy commentary and jaded grouching sessions weren't capable of so much as chipping at his facade.
maybe he cared, maybe he didn't. but he certainly didn't do anything to show her that he cared, and so daisy didn't believe he did. he took a paycheck, that was all. ]
And I don't need you to carry me. I'm not a child. [ but she drops her voice, at least, even if she doesn't look thrilled about it. annoyed, but not yelling anymore. ] I can walk.
[ she would rather not, though. she still thinks the fire escape is a dumb plan.
plus, just for good measure, she has to try and get the last word in. ]
When I've gotten you safely back home, I will ask you the question on if you want me to leave or not. You can tell me honestly and I'll do what you want. Until then, shut up.
[ since she seems to have come to her senses, he grabs for her arm again and moves down the hall, listening at various doors to check for anyone inside. when he comes to the end of the hall, he uses the heel of his boot to kick the knob loose. it'll be obvious but they have no time to waste.
he shoves her into the room and towards the door. ] Get the window open. I'm going to barricade the door.
[ with a chair, an ironing board, anything he can to slow whoever might be behind them. once he's done what he can, he crosses the room to the window and shoves it open before stepping back and grabbing for her hand. ]
[ please don't ask her that question. she doesn't know the answer to that question. or, rather, she does know the answer, but she doesn't know why it is. she isn't willing to know.
because she shouldn't care whether he stays or goes. he's just a bodyguard, he's just a hired gun, he's not. a friend. he doesn't want to be anything but a soldier, so he isn't. and yet... she cares. she doesn't want anyone else to be in that role.
thus: she doesn't want him to go.
but it's fine. it's good. she'll hover a palm over the latch of the window and shove, vibrations forcing the latch up and over until the window quivers in its frame. unlocked, inhuman style. which is great... but if he was just going to throw his weight around, she could have just quaked a hole in the damn thing and called it a day. it would have been faster.
though you know what else is fast? her heartbeat when he takes her hand, his obnoxiously large palm pressed snug against her own.
the swells of the aladdin soundtrack play suspiciously in her mind. do you trust me, the street rat whispers. ]
[ the fire escape is firm, steady and he drags her down one level, ending up on a first floor landing. the drop down isn't too bad so he lets her go with strict instructions to stay there. he's going first. he turns around and lowers himself down, hanging off the ledge before he drops, using his height to his advantage.
once he's on the ground, he looks up and gestures her down. ]
Come on. You said you could get yourself down from the roof. Well, now you can get down from the first floor. Come on, we need to go. I need to find us a car.
[ he's so impatient. granted, he has good reason to be, but still. impatience. ]
I'm coming, Jesus. Relax.
[ or breathing fast. whatever. he might be tall enough to gently drop from ledge to streetside below, but daisy's considerably shorter. her fall is a little more dramatic, feet and then knees hitting the ground as she stumbles on the landing, but it's not — anything to be worried about.
she's fine, really. just wincing a little from the clumsiness of it all. ]
I don't think we have time to check out the nearest rental shop.
[ it wasn't something he really liked doing but circumstances being what they are, he's willing to do it and return the vehicle once he's done. he reaches to take her hand again and moves them down the alley until they're at the entrance. it's a busy street, cars coming and going.
he can see his car but it's surrounded by a few more of those men obviously expecting he was going to come back. that was not going to happen. instead, he waits until a group of people walk by and then tugs her into the group, disguising them somewhat. he has to hunch his shoulders and duck so he doesn't stick out.
they walk a block like that before he sees an older vehicle parked in a fairly isolated spot. he pulls her towards it and works the driver's side open with a knife and a hairpin before getting in. he unlocks the door for her before reaching under the dashboard to grab for the wires. ]
[ she almost stops to question him — he knows how to steal a car? — but they're moving too quickly for her to even get the words out. she's lucky to keep up at all with the pace his legs are setting, and she's too busy being stunned by the sudden reveal of a knife (from where?) and a hairpin (from where?!) to think about words.
it's not until she's dropped into the passenger seat and told to keep an eye out for incoming enemies that daisy gets more than a half second to breathe. which is when, naturally, she looks down to notice that the car he's chosen is practically an antique. it doesn't even have power windows, for fuck's sake. she has to roll it down like a grandmother going through the drive thru! ]
You know this thing doesn't even have Bluetooth, right?
[ she's looking, okay. she's got her eyes on the rearview mirrors... most of the time. she's not willing to admit that her gaze occasionally dips back across to peer over at his hands at work under the wheel. ]
[ he huffs out an irritated breath while he rubs two wires together, waiting for them to catch a spark. when they do, he ties them together and lets them drop before throwing the car into drive and shoving the accelerator down hard enough to throw him back in his seat. ]
Buckle up, please. [ safety first even as he cuts off one vehicle to get them into the thick of traffic and away from that building. ]
I didn't say it was a concern — [ nor does she get to say what it is, either, because the car jerks forward hard enough that daisy topples from the sudden acceleration, her back hitting the seat cushion hard enough to make her huff out a breath.
fine, she'll wear a seat belt. begrudgingly. and not because he told her to, but because she doesn't want his erratic driving to kill her. ]
I know there's the whole diplomatic immunity, hired guard of the Inhuman state business, but maybe not getting pulled over would be helpful?
[ does he care? probably not. he's probably not even listening to her. ]
Shut up. [ how many times is he going to tell her that during this whole ordeal? probably at least twenty. it's not that he doesn't appreciate her opinions (he does), but he needs to focus right now. his eyes flick between the mirrors and the road, watching for a vehicle that might look like it's trying to creep closer to them. ]
When I get you to the appointed safehouse, you can call anyone you would like to tell them that you are safe. [ aka call your damn mother and ask her what the hell's up. ]
It does not look like we've been followed but we can't be sure that they don't have other people around the city. So, slide down in your seat and stay as quiet as you can.
Oh, right, because there's a laundry list of people on the edge of their seat.
[ she's not looking forward to explaining to her mother exactly how poorly this meeting went. maybe she'll forget, and daisy won't have to. unlikely, but she's going to cling to that for now.
there's a beat of silence as she stares at him in relative disbelief — slide down? — but then, for once, she doesn't argue. she just sighs, a long-suffering sound, and pulls on the handle at the side of her seat until it lays flat back, dropping back with it so that she's as horizontal as possible. ]
[ he's grateful that she was at least quiet about it and that she'd listened. it would have been too much to ask that she do as he asked without a word though. he'd been expecting something. ]
It'll be over soon and then you can do whatever you want. [ within reason. until her mother decides what to do and she decides to fire him. he's of the mind that that's going to happen despite getting her daughter out of there safely. ]
[ it's said suddenly, after a brief delay of petulant silence, her voice cracking the air as they turn into a tunnel on the local roads. ]
If whoever set up this meeting knew I would be there alone, they probably know our safehouses too. [ logical, sure. but the safehouses also suck, and don't have cable, and she doesn't feel like sitting around for twelve hours without anything to do waiting for her mother's inevitable call back and disappointed lecture. ] Take me to a hotel.
[ she has a point. the meeting hadn't been disclosed to many so it's very possible someone close to her or her mother had leaked it so there could be other private things being made public. he thinks about it for a second before nodding. ]
Stay down.
[ and he drives the rest of the way in silence, taking them on a winding trip through the city to make sure there's no way to be followed. once he's fairly certain that there is no tail, he gets onto the highway and then off a few stops later.
the hotel he chooses isn't so battered that it would be obvious they'd be there. it's older but still clean and still crowded. it's tucked in between two larger buildings and would easily be passed if you didn't know it was there. ]
[ he doesn't argue — for once. it's actually nice, daisy thinks, to have her opinions considered as reasonable rather than just summarily dismissed as a product of her so-called privilege; in the wake of his taciturn acknowledgement, daisy offers her own olive branch in turn. she stays quiet, letting her eyes close as they take various twists and turns in the city streets only to pick up speed some time later. the highway, she presumes, but she doesn't sit up to find out until they've pulled into a parking space.
there's no valet — or at least, no mandatory one — so she knows this isn't one of her mother's favored five-star properties. the lobby is clean and well-lit, but the windows don't quite reach floor to ceiling and the floors don't exactly sparkle; as they approach the desk to check-in (under a fake name, always under an alias), the worker smiles. asks if they're enjoying their stay, mr and mrs...
without missing a beat, daisy lets an arm loop around his, affecting a soft smile that's strangely easy to force; she laughs a little, and shakes her head. ]
Not yet, [ a conspiratorial whisper, ] He hasn't worked up the nerve to ask.
[ the man looks bemused on her behalf, glances darting between them; as he hands over the keys, daisy leans in. ]
We just wanted a little privacy, you know? My mother is so old-fashioned. [ a wink that earns a laugh in return. ] If anybody asks for us, keep our secret?
[ of course, he nods. romance is hard to argue against, and star-crossed lovers even more so; it leaves daisy feeling particularly smug as they turn towards the elevators, keys resting in her free palm. ]
Don't ruin it, [ she finally addresses to him, tone low. ]
[ he almost interjects several times, trying to speak up for himself about a relationship that doesn't even exist. eventually, he just let's her handle it, let's her talk and then turns with her to walk away. ]
I'm not ruining anything.
[ he hasn't contradicted her or said anything to arouse suspicion that her words are a lie. in fact, as they walk, he even leans over and lets his lips just barely graze the top of her head. while she was a far, far better actor in this realm of things than he was, he could still play a part when it was needed.
when they're out of sight, he still lets her keep a hold of his arm and winds them down the hallways to the room they've been given. he since she has the keys, he nods at the door while his eyes look up and down the corridor just in case someone happens to be lurking.
the door opens and the gestures her inside before he follows, shutting and locking the door behind them.
he sighs quietly, feeling a little bit more secure now that they're out of sight. ]
[ it's not the hotel suite she'd left earlier today, but the room is large enough to be comfortable. there's a bed and a sitting area and a small desk against the wall, and an en-suite bath that she notices even has a small soaker tub under a stained glass window. it's not the ritz, but it's nice. old-fashioned, perhaps, but still. it's nice.
she wonders how he knows this place exists. something to ask at a later time. right now, she has to work — on her phone, that is, since her laptop's still left behind in the suite from this morning.
jiaying doesn't own real estate. it's easier to convince (threaten) high-end hotels to loan her luxury suites for long-term stays, and so daisy's used to bouncing from place to place every few months. she doesn't own much, anyway, and what she does can be moved easily by people paid to do it. ]
Do you think someone will know where I've been staying?
[ she really doesn't want to remote wipe her laptop, but if she has to... ]
Difficult to say. But, they knew the location of a meeting that was not public knowledge. I would not be surprised if they knew where you'd been.
[ so, better safe than sorry. and he is sorry. he's seen her work on her laptop for long stretches of time and he knows whatever's on there is probably meaningful to her. ]
If there was another way, I'd say you could probably hold off but I... [ he trails off, frustrated. this was a new situation. there had been threats before but nothing that felt this close in nature. ]
They won't know you're here, though. We can see about getting you a replacement soon.
[ she doesn't argue. can't. he's right, and she hates it; she hates what it means she has to do even more. with a few agitated presses against the screen, daisy activates the remote wipe on her laptop.
it's not a total loss — she's never been a particularly sentimental person, so there's no cherished photos kept on the drive — but it's an important step. if someone raids her room, they'll want to find out what she had access to. they won't be able to access her cloud backups on a wiped drive, and she can shut those down for the time being. until she's somewhere more stable, until she has something better than her phone to download things to.
but it's still annoying. a violation of her privacy, of what little autonomy she's carved out for herself, and she hates it.
enough to breathe out a staggered exhale, agitation shuddering her shoulders, and to swallow down a cry before it has a chance to escape her lips. but all that tension and anger and irritation has to go somewhere — as it turns out, somewhere happens to be the wall behind her, which gets a thump of her boot in her frustration. ]
God! [ only a little is, apparently, not good enough. ] This is so stupid.
[ she wants to say more, wants to scream about it, but she can't find words to say. just a mix of emotions welling up as she suddenly drops to the floor, knees pulled up to her chest. ]
[ he's seen her get angry before but it's usually directed at him or at something he's done. it's never been this desperate, anchorless anger that she can't do anything with. she kicks the wall and then collapses onto the floor. at first, he doesn't really know what to do.
he stands there, bewildered, letting her be before he realizes that that's going to just make him look more robotic and untouchable than he already knows he appears.
so, he moves closer, crouching down at her side, one hand hovering over her back. he doesn't know whether to touch her or not so it just hangs there before he finally convinces himself to get over it and lets his hand rest gently against her back. ]
I'm sorry this happened. [ it's not her fault, it's not his fault but it is a terrible situation all around. ] If there was any other way, I would take it.
[ she starts at the touch — not a flinch, not moving away from it, but just startled by the unexpected comfort. there's a moment where daisy simply stills in place, uncertain, but eventually her shoulders sag and she leans back into it, his palm a firm pressure just below her shoulder blade.]
It's not your fault. [ it needs to be said. she blames him for so many things, usually small irritations, but not this. this isn't his fault — unless, of course, he was the one to leak her location, to send her into a trap. but she doesn't think he's the cause. she doesn't know why she's so certain of that, but she is. ] It's — I don't know whose fault it is, but it's not yours.
[ her head tips back, crown resting against the wall for a beat before her eyes fall shut. ]
I don't know what to do. [ about the situation, yes, but also in the immediate sense. ] We can't leave, can we?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ something triggers in her, something hurt and wounded and raw, the memory of all the people who have left or turned their backs or disappeared in her life. her father, her tutors, what passed as friends in her childhood. her world got smaller and smaller until all that was left was daisy and her mother and whatever poor soul happened to be tasked with keeping watch on her that day.
something triggers in her, and she realizes she doesn't want to be left behind. if someone's going to leave, it's because she makes them. so when he pulls her out and wraps his hand around her arm, daisy yanks it back, out of his grip and his reach, and turns to go the other way. let them catch her, what did he care? at least he'd save his own arrogant skin. ]
Fuck you.
[ #adult.
she pushes open the door to the stairwell and begins the climb up. she'll take the roof. he can do whatever he wants. ]
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Would you trust me to know what I am doing? Just once. Trust me.
[ he's irritated and he'll admit that he spoke out of turn later on when he speaks with his handlers but he cannot let her just go off on her own. that is a death wish. ]
I'm not going to let anyone touch you but you have to let me do my job. [ please. ] Come on. We are wasting time.
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Let — go — of — me!
[ he does not. in fact, he only grips harder, clearly agitated by her mini tantrum — which, in turn, only makes daisy more annoyed at the entire situation. he doesn't have anything to be annoyed by! he's the one who wants to leave! she's trying to go! let! her! go! ]
You don't even want to be here!
[ she could get away, if she really wanted to. even if she can't pry his hand off her arm, she could force him to let go. she could push him backwards hard enough that he'd have no choice but to relinquish control. but she doesn't. she doesn't push, she doesn't yank, doesn't quake him ... for reasons that she can't even come up with. doesn't matter why. she just doesn't do it. ]
You don't even want this stupid job!
[ god she's like a five year old throwing a fit because she's not allowed to put her fingers in the electrical socket ... please stop ... ]
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[ he grabs at both of her shoulders know, yanking her closer and lowering his voice. she's being too loud and they're going to draw attention to themselves. he has no idea how many of those men are trawling through this building but standing here and arguing with her is not doing them any favors. ]
You know nothing about me.
[ he glares, eyes hard and expression flinty. ] So, here's some basic facts: I am the only one here to help you right now. And I want to help but you have to let me. Now, if I have to carry you down the fire escape I will but we are not going to the roof and I am not leaving without you.
[ so, get your shit together because they gotta go. ] You can berate me and talk down to me later all you want. I'm used to it. But right now, I'm in charge.
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[ that she knows nothing about him. he doesn't let her know anything about him. she tried — when he was first hired, brought on as an interim solution when daisy's last bodyguard (nanny figure) had stormed out in a huff after she'd beaten him too badly at one too many games of battleship, she'd tried to get to know him. she'd tried to learn about his hobbies, his interests; she'd tried to make him laugh, to include him in her sillier escapes, to show him that while she craved freedom, she wasn't an idiot.
but he'd shut her down and stonewalled her out, unemotional and unyielding at every turn, and so daisy had stopped trying. she'd started treating him like the concrete statue he pretended to be, as if her snippy commentary and jaded grouching sessions weren't capable of so much as chipping at his facade.
maybe he cared, maybe he didn't. but he certainly didn't do anything to show her that he cared, and so daisy didn't believe he did. he took a paycheck, that was all. ]
And I don't need you to carry me. I'm not a child. [ but she drops her voice, at least, even if she doesn't look thrilled about it. annoyed, but not yelling anymore. ] I can walk.
[ she would rather not, though. she still thinks the fire escape is a dumb plan.
plus, just for good measure, she has to try and get the last word in. ]
And you're not in charge of me, either.
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[ since she seems to have come to her senses, he grabs for her arm again and moves down the hall, listening at various doors to check for anyone inside. when he comes to the end of the hall, he uses the heel of his boot to kick the knob loose. it'll be obvious but they have no time to waste.
he shoves her into the room and towards the door. ] Get the window open. I'm going to barricade the door.
[ with a chair, an ironing board, anything he can to slow whoever might be behind them. once he's done what he can, he crosses the room to the window and shoves it open before stepping back and grabbing for her hand. ]
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because she shouldn't care whether he stays or goes. he's just a bodyguard, he's just a hired gun, he's not. a friend. he doesn't want to be anything but a soldier, so he isn't. and yet... she cares. she doesn't want anyone else to be in that role.
thus: she doesn't want him to go.
but it's fine. it's good. she'll hover a palm over the latch of the window and shove, vibrations forcing the latch up and over until the window quivers in its frame. unlocked, inhuman style. which is great... but if he was just going to throw his weight around, she could have just quaked a hole in the damn thing and called it a day. it would have been faster.
though you know what else is fast? her heartbeat when he takes her hand, his obnoxiously large palm pressed snug against her own.
the swells of the aladdin soundtrack play suspiciously in her mind. do you trust me, the street rat whispers. ]
... are we jumping?
[ like, that's fine, but warn a girl. ]
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[ the fire escape is firm, steady and he drags her down one level, ending up on a first floor landing. the drop down isn't too bad so he lets her go with strict instructions to stay there. he's going first. he turns around and lowers himself down, hanging off the ledge before he drops, using his height to his advantage.
once he's on the ground, he looks up and gestures her down. ]
Come on. You said you could get yourself down from the roof. Well, now you can get down from the first floor. Come on, we need to go. I need to find us a car.
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I'm coming, Jesus. Relax.
[ or breathing fast. whatever. he might be tall enough to gently drop from ledge to streetside below, but daisy's considerably shorter. her fall is a little more dramatic, feet and then knees hitting the ground as she stumbles on the landing, but it's not — anything to be worried about.
she's fine, really. just wincing a little from the clumsiness of it all. ]
I don't think we have time to check out the nearest rental shop.
[ so what's it gonna be? ]
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[ it wasn't something he really liked doing but circumstances being what they are, he's willing to do it and return the vehicle once he's done. he reaches to take her hand again and moves them down the alley until they're at the entrance. it's a busy street, cars coming and going.
he can see his car but it's surrounded by a few more of those men obviously expecting he was going to come back. that was not going to happen. instead, he waits until a group of people walk by and then tugs her into the group, disguising them somewhat. he has to hunch his shoulders and duck so he doesn't stick out.
they walk a block like that before he sees an older vehicle parked in a fairly isolated spot. he pulls her towards it and works the driver's side open with a knife and a hairpin before getting in. he unlocks the door for her before reaching under the dashboard to grab for the wires. ]
Keep an eye out, please.
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it's not until she's dropped into the passenger seat and told to keep an eye out for incoming enemies that daisy gets more than a half second to breathe. which is when, naturally, she looks down to notice that the car he's chosen is practically an antique. it doesn't even have power windows, for fuck's sake. she has to roll it down like a grandmother going through the drive thru! ]
You know this thing doesn't even have Bluetooth, right?
[ she's looking, okay. she's got her eyes on the rearview mirrors... most of the time. she's not willing to admit that her gaze occasionally dips back across to peer over at his hands at work under the wheel. ]
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[ he huffs out an irritated breath while he rubs two wires together, waiting for them to catch a spark. when they do, he ties them together and lets them drop before throwing the car into drive and shoving the accelerator down hard enough to throw him back in his seat. ]
Buckle up, please. [ safety first even as he cuts off one vehicle to get them into the thick of traffic and away from that building. ]
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fine, she'll wear a seat belt. begrudgingly. and not because he told her to, but because she doesn't want his erratic driving to kill her. ]
I know there's the whole diplomatic immunity, hired guard of the Inhuman state business, but maybe not getting pulled over would be helpful?
[ does he care? probably not. he's probably not even listening to her. ]
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When I get you to the appointed safehouse, you can call anyone you would like to tell them that you are safe. [ aka call your damn mother and ask her what the hell's up. ]
It does not look like we've been followed but we can't be sure that they don't have other people around the city. So, slide down in your seat and stay as quiet as you can.
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[ she's not looking forward to explaining to her mother exactly how poorly this meeting went. maybe she'll forget, and daisy won't have to. unlikely, but she's going to cling to that for now.
there's a beat of silence as she stares at him in relative disbelief — slide down? — but then, for once, she doesn't argue. she just sighs, a long-suffering sound, and pulls on the handle at the side of her seat until it lays flat back, dropping back with it so that she's as horizontal as possible. ]
This is ridiculous, for the record.
[ said quietly. take what you can get, illya. ]
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[ he's grateful that she was at least quiet about it and that she'd listened. it would have been too much to ask that she do as he asked without a word though. he'd been expecting something. ]
It'll be over soon and then you can do whatever you want. [ within reason. until her mother decides what to do and she decides to fire him. he's of the mind that that's going to happen despite getting her daughter out of there safely. ]
Just as you've always wished.
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[ it's said suddenly, after a brief delay of petulant silence, her voice cracking the air as they turn into a tunnel on the local roads. ]
If whoever set up this meeting knew I would be there alone, they probably know our safehouses too. [ logical, sure. but the safehouses also suck, and don't have cable, and she doesn't feel like sitting around for twelve hours without anything to do waiting for her mother's inevitable call back and disappointed lecture. ] Take me to a hotel.
[ a different one, she assumes. ]
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Stay down.
[ and he drives the rest of the way in silence, taking them on a winding trip through the city to make sure there's no way to be followed. once he's fairly certain that there is no tail, he gets onto the highway and then off a few stops later.
the hotel he chooses isn't so battered that it would be obvious they'd be there. it's older but still clean and still crowded. it's tucked in between two larger buildings and would easily be passed if you didn't know it was there. ]
We're here. Come on.
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there's no valet — or at least, no mandatory one — so she knows this isn't one of her mother's favored five-star properties. the lobby is clean and well-lit, but the windows don't quite reach floor to ceiling and the floors don't exactly sparkle; as they approach the desk to check-in (under a fake name, always under an alias), the worker smiles. asks if they're enjoying their stay, mr and mrs...
without missing a beat, daisy lets an arm loop around his, affecting a soft smile that's strangely easy to force; she laughs a little, and shakes her head. ]
Not yet, [ a conspiratorial whisper, ] He hasn't worked up the nerve to ask.
[ the man looks bemused on her behalf, glances darting between them; as he hands over the keys, daisy leans in. ]
We just wanted a little privacy, you know? My mother is so old-fashioned. [ a wink that earns a laugh in return. ] If anybody asks for us, keep our secret?
[ of course, he nods. romance is hard to argue against, and star-crossed lovers even more so; it leaves daisy feeling particularly smug as they turn towards the elevators, keys resting in her free palm. ]
Don't ruin it, [ she finally addresses to him, tone low. ]
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I'm not ruining anything.
[ he hasn't contradicted her or said anything to arouse suspicion that her words are a lie. in fact, as they walk, he even leans over and lets his lips just barely graze the top of her head. while she was a far, far better actor in this realm of things than he was, he could still play a part when it was needed.
when they're out of sight, he still lets her keep a hold of his arm and winds them down the hallways to the room they've been given. he since she has the keys, he nods at the door while his eyes look up and down the corridor just in case someone happens to be lurking.
the door opens and the gestures her inside before he follows, shutting and locking the door behind them.
he sighs quietly, feeling a little bit more secure now that they're out of sight. ]
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she wonders how he knows this place exists. something to ask at a later time. right now, she has to work — on her phone, that is, since her laptop's still left behind in the suite from this morning.
jiaying doesn't own real estate. it's easier to convince (threaten) high-end hotels to loan her luxury suites for long-term stays, and so daisy's used to bouncing from place to place every few months. she doesn't own much, anyway, and what she does can be moved easily by people paid to do it. ]
Do you think someone will know where I've been staying?
[ she really doesn't want to remote wipe her laptop, but if she has to... ]
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[ so, better safe than sorry. and he is sorry. he's seen her work on her laptop for long stretches of time and he knows whatever's on there is probably meaningful to her. ]
If there was another way, I'd say you could probably hold off but I... [ he trails off, frustrated. this was a new situation. there had been threats before but nothing that felt this close in nature. ]
They won't know you're here, though. We can see about getting you a replacement soon.
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it's not a total loss — she's never been a particularly sentimental person, so there's no cherished photos kept on the drive — but it's an important step. if someone raids her room, they'll want to find out what she had access to. they won't be able to access her cloud backups on a wiped drive, and she can shut those down for the time being. until she's somewhere more stable, until she has something better than her phone to download things to.
but it's still annoying. a violation of her privacy, of what little autonomy she's carved out for herself, and she hates it.
enough to breathe out a staggered exhale, agitation shuddering her shoulders, and to swallow down a cry before it has a chance to escape her lips. but all that tension and anger and irritation has to go somewhere — as it turns out, somewhere happens to be the wall behind her, which gets a thump of her boot in her frustration. ]
God! [ only a little is, apparently, not good enough. ] This is so stupid.
[ she wants to say more, wants to scream about it, but she can't find words to say. just a mix of emotions welling up as she suddenly drops to the floor, knees pulled up to her chest. ]
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he stands there, bewildered, letting her be before he realizes that that's going to just make him look more robotic and untouchable than he already knows he appears.
so, he moves closer, crouching down at her side, one hand hovering over her back. he doesn't know whether to touch her or not so it just hangs there before he finally convinces himself to get over it and lets his hand rest gently against her back. ]
I'm sorry this happened. [ it's not her fault, it's not his fault but it is a terrible situation all around. ] If there was any other way, I would take it.
[ but her safety will always be the priority. ]
Can I do anything to help you?
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It's not your fault. [ it needs to be said. she blames him for so many things, usually small irritations, but not this. this isn't his fault — unless, of course, he was the one to leak her location, to send her into a trap. but she doesn't think he's the cause. she doesn't know why she's so certain of that, but she is. ] It's — I don't know whose fault it is, but it's not yours.
[ her head tips back, crown resting against the wall for a beat before her eyes fall shut. ]
I don't know what to do. [ about the situation, yes, but also in the immediate sense. ] We can't leave, can we?
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