[ probably, yes. but her hand is the least of her worries, and if Kovacs comes anywhere near her with his fucking power she'll break her other one on him too. ]
You don't know that. If he does talk and somebody actually listens, it's too fucking late to take it back.
[ it's done. that's all there is to it. ] If they want to fucking punish me, fine. Don't worry, I'll keep your name out of it.
[ see what a good guy he was? such a good guy. ] I'm not worrying about it. [ he blows out a breath when the pain in his stomach finally goes away and then straightens. ]
[ he doesn't get it. or if he does, he's a fucking idiot.
and the more he treats her like she's freaking out over nothing, the more she wishes she was still capable of lifting a man by the balls. ]
It's not about punishment. I don't give a shit what the rest of our merry band of refugees has to say - though if they hear it's you who's fucked up I'll bet you're going to need more than some goddamned ice.
Weird shit has been going on around here. You think people aren't watching? You think if they hear about some guy sucking a stab wound out out of somebody's hand they're not going to be interested? You want to end up on someone's lab table, that's your call.
But next time you're going to be a fucking idiot, do it somewhere I'm not.
[ he waves a hand at her, dismissing the concerns because he's not worried. that fucking bartender won't talk because he won't want another fork in his hand. and he'd get worse than that if he decided to run his fucking mouth. ]
Are we done with the lecture? I've had a long fucking day. [ his poor head. he just wants his headache to go away but now he's got the headache and a stomachache. thanks, laura. ]
[ dismissed again, just like that, out of hand. like it's no big deal, like there's nothing to be concerned about.
Laura Moon has a life - death - life to get back to. he might not give a shit but she does. one last curl of her lip. they're not going to see eye to eye on this.
still furious, nowhere for all that pent up sentiment to go and no strength with which to take it out on him or the surrounding area, she does the only non-violent but satisfyingly aggressive thing she can think of. turns her head and spits at the ground.
it's not aimed at him, he's an important ally even if she is livid at his dismissal and his sweethearts, but it's a solid sign of what she thinks about this whole exchange. about his attitude.
that done and with one final glower, she turns on her heel with every intention of fucking off. ]
[ he should just let her go. that would be the easy thing. she's mad, he's mad, and they're not responsible for each other's feelings.
and for a second, he sticks to that before he curses under his breath and uses his longer legs to try and catch her and grab her by the arm to at least stop her murder strut. ]
Come on, don't go.
[ that's sincere, at least. you wanna know how many friends he has in this shitty city? maybe one. maybe two. he has no fucking ideas but he knows he doesn't mind her. ]
I got hit in the fucking head, give me a break. Or punch me again.
[ that helped, didn't it? ]
Come on. [ that time, it's almost a dare. ] Get it out.
I asked you what you could do. I didn’t say show me your blatantly impossible parlour trick in the middle of this fucking bar where anybody can see. If you think I’m overreacting, one you’re an asshole and two there’s no point in me wasting my time repeating myself. But don’t fucking make out like you were doing as you were told.
And if you ever sweetheart me again today won’t be the last time somebody attacks you in your sleep, or the most fucking memorable.
[ clear? got it? can we all just get on with fucking off now? ]
[ it's something. not a fucking apology, but better than nothing. a puff of breath and she sure isn't as shy about the eye rolling. less at what he's said than at herself for hanging around long enough to wind up giving him a second chance. ]
I broke my fist on your gut, I'm going to skip a repeat performance. But thanks anyway for the heads up.
No, you do not need to get me some ice. [ she doesn't need your help!! your stupid body did this in the first place!! no that's not actually the issue and there's minimal venom left in her voice. ] Some of us give a shit and go to hospital when we're busted.
[ stomachs are supposed to be soft! put your abs away! ]
Yeah, well, congratulations. [ and no, she was being dramatic about your Bleeding Head. for her part, ] I'm going back to the safehouse first, see if any of the doctor types are around. If not, we'll see.
[ fucking kovacs. she glares at him, on the cusp of disbelieving... but she's not his literal boss. she doesn't pay him to behave a certain way and she couldn't ultimately stop him if she wanted to.
she doesn't particularly care to either. the incident was very specific, and not particularly the fault of drink. ]
You just got clubbed in the head with a bed in that safehouse. Is there nowhere else you can go?
[ somebody's clearly pissed and there's every chance that other people will be as a result. walking back in there drinking and bleeding doesn't seem like the smartest choice. ]
[ he stares at her like she's grown a second head. ]
Do you want me to fucking sleep outside? Where else am I gonna go? I'm allowed to be there too. I didn't start that fucking fight. I got just pulled into it.
[ he could spend time drinking here and there but he had to go back eventually. ]
I'm not saying you're not allowed to be there, I'm saying if someone came at you in your sleep once who's to say they're not going to do it again? You can only get hit in the head so many times before it's had enough.
[ having said that, he doesn't particularly strike her as the kind to have a whole lot of friends to fall back on. she'd offer him a couch, sure, but she's one of a likely small minority - and she doesn't have a couch to spare. ]
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[ probably, yes. but her hand is the least of her worries, and if Kovacs comes anywhere near her with his fucking power she'll break her other one on him too. ]
You don't know that. If he does talk and somebody actually listens, it's too fucking late to take it back.
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[ it's done. that's all there is to it. ] If they want to fucking punish me, fine. Don't worry, I'll keep your name out of it.
[ see what a good guy he was? such a good guy. ] I'm not worrying about it. [ he blows out a breath when the pain in his stomach finally goes away and then straightens. ]
Are you done throwing your tantrum now?
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and the more he treats her like she's freaking out over nothing, the more she wishes she was still capable of lifting a man by the balls. ]
It's not about punishment. I don't give a shit what the rest of our merry band of refugees has to say - though if they hear it's you who's fucked up I'll bet you're going to need more than some goddamned ice.
Weird shit has been going on around here. You think people aren't watching? You think if they hear about some guy sucking a stab wound out out of somebody's hand they're not going to be interested? You want to end up on someone's lab table, that's your call.
But next time you're going to be a fucking idiot, do it somewhere I'm not.
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[ he waves a hand at her, dismissing the concerns because he's not worried. that fucking bartender won't talk because he won't want another fork in his hand. and he'd get worse than that if he decided to run his fucking mouth. ]
Are we done with the lecture? I've had a long fucking day. [ his poor head. he just wants his headache to go away but now he's got the headache and a stomachache. thanks, laura. ]
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Laura Moon has a life - death - life to get back to. he might not give a shit but she does. one last curl of her lip. they're not going to see eye to eye on this.
still furious, nowhere for all that pent up sentiment to go and no strength with which to take it out on him or the surrounding area, she does the only non-violent but satisfyingly aggressive thing she can think of. turns her head and spits at the ground.
it's not aimed at him, he's an important ally even if she is livid at his dismissal and his sweethearts, but it's a solid sign of what she thinks about this whole exchange. about his attitude.
that done and with one final glower, she turns on her heel with every intention of fucking off. ]
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and for a second, he sticks to that before he curses under his breath and uses his longer legs to try and catch her and grab her by the arm to at least stop her murder strut. ]
Come on, don't go.
[ that's sincere, at least. you wanna know how many friends he has in this shitty city? maybe one. maybe two. he has no fucking ideas but he knows he doesn't mind her. ]
I got hit in the fucking head, give me a break. Or punch me again.
[ that helped, didn't it? ]
Come on. [ that time, it's almost a dare. ] Get it out.
[ because he knows she's pissed. he knows. ]
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Don't fucking touch me.
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[ who'd just dragged him out of the bar? it wasn't kovacs himself. so, he doesn't let go. he doesn't squeeze harder but he doesn't let go. ]
What's your problem? What'd I say?
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You want me to explain to you again? Slower? In shorter words?
[ ugh. ]
Fuck off and lay low. Get your head patched up.
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[ though that might have been part of the whole thing. she'd gotten pretty fucking mad for just wanting him to straighten up and fly right. ]
You acted like I just shot your fucking dog or something. Tell me. I'm asking nicely.
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And if you ever sweetheart me again today won’t be the last time somebody attacks you in your sleep, or the most fucking memorable.
[ clear? got it? can we all just get on with fucking off now? ]
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Fine.
[ that took a lot of effort not to snap back. ]
Laura. [ see? effort. ] The next time you hit me though, I am going to hit back. Just a warning.
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I broke my fist on your gut, I'm going to skip a repeat performance. But thanks anyway for the heads up.
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[ thanks elias ryker. you were good for some things. you were fucked up for so many others, though. ]
Do I need to go get you some ice now?
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Are you going to the hospital, then?
[ he sounds bemused. ]
I had no idea my stomach was that hard to the touch.
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Yeah, well, congratulations. [ and no, she was being dramatic about your Bleeding Head. for her part, ] I'm going back to the safehouse first, see if any of the doctor types are around. If not, we'll see.
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Thank you, your congratulations are appreciated. [ of course he's gonna take that literally. ] I'm gonna drink some more.
[ his head still fucking hurts. ]
But I'll be on my best behavior. Scout's honor.
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she doesn't particularly care to either. the incident was very specific, and not particularly the fault of drink. ]
Fine. But find another bar.
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I'm not a fucking moron. [ not all the time, at least. ] I was going to do that. Or at least buy a bottle and take it back to the safehouse with me.
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You're going back? Right now?
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[ he rubs at the back of his head and winces. ]
Why?
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[ somebody's clearly pissed and there's every chance that other people will be as a result. walking back in there drinking and bleeding doesn't seem like the smartest choice. ]
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Do you want me to fucking sleep outside? Where else am I gonna go? I'm allowed to be there too. I didn't start that fucking fight. I got just pulled into it.
[ he could spend time drinking here and there but he had to go back eventually. ]
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[ having said that, he doesn't particularly strike her as the kind to have a whole lot of friends to fall back on. she'd offer him a couch, sure, but she's one of a likely small minority - and she doesn't have a couch to spare. ]
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