Main Page |
* Bienca is dozing on the long sofa of the main room of her flat. The remains of a light breakfast/snack might have been on the plate next to her before Gar started investigating and found the plate in need of "washing". * Dawn slams through the door. His eyes are practically sparking with anger, though he manages to keep his speaking voice at a normal volume. "Bienca. Get up." <Bienca> ::stretches:: Hmmm? ::she opens one eye:: <Dawn> ::folds his arms:: How's the morning sickness? * Bienca stops mid-stretch and sits up. "Better, thank you." She takes a deep breath. <Dawn> It *is* true, then. ::he grinds his teeth, glaring:: Why the fuck didn't you tell me? <Bienca> ::looks at him somewhat tentatively:: I hadn't wanted to say anything until... ::she touches her stomach lightly:: well, until I was reasonably certain I was... why worry anyone, if I was just going to lose the baby? ::sighs:: And then with Angel and... Who told you? <Dawn> It doesn't fucking matter, does it? ::he pauses, then doubletakes:: You're going to *KEEP* it?! <Bienca> ::one eyebrow twitches up:: And what if I am? <Dawn> What if- Dammit, Bienca, haven't you thought about the *liability*? <Bienca> ::softly:: I've thought about a lot of things. ::she twines her fingers together and looks down at her hands:: <Dawn> ::growls:: Fucking wonderful. We've got a lizard captain with a hard-on for the guild, a half-grown mindbender with her claws in Angel's head, and now *this*... ::he snarls wordlessly and starts pacing, looking not unlike Gar:: <Bienca> ::her mouth twitches slightly:: Would you like to tell me exactly why "this" is a problem? <Dawn> How can it *not* be? You're off the street for at *least* a year - that's income that's not coming in - and then you've got this... *baby* to haul around everyfuckingwhere, and... Shit. Dusk will fucking *flip*. ::he scrubs his hands over his face, and goes back to pacing:: <Bienca> ::hotly:: My *income* has been pretty fucking spectacular for the last few years, I think the Guild can put me through a slim year. That's what the Guild is *for*, if I remember correctly. <Dawn> Has it escaped your attention that we've just gotten over a godforsaken *war*, we're still shorthanded, and we've got the fucking *lizards* breathing down our necks? <Bienca> ::stiffly:: Are you here officially, then? <Dawn> ::pulls up short, seething:: No. I wanted to check it out before I told Angel. He'll make the decision. ::he turns toward the door, his spine stiff:: Don't expect me to back you, though. * Bienca looks as if she's been slapped. Or perhaps, would *rather* have been slapped. Then she clears her expression. "Don't worry. Sir. I never did." * Dawn nods, shortly. "Very well. I expect you'll hear from Angel soon, then." He doesn't wait for her to respond before he leaves. * Bienca watches him go, waiting until the door is closed and she can no longer here his boots on the step before putting her hands over her face to cry. <Dawn> ::At the foot of the stairs, out of view of her windows, Dawn pauses, resting his forehead against the wall, his breathing ragged. After a long moment, he slams both fists into the wall.:: Done. Merciless gods... ::He draws a deep breath, then squares his shoulders and walks away.:: |
|
|