Ananke is tired.

It's to be expected of someone who's only human. The raid had ended only a few hours ago, but to the specialist, it may as well had taken a lifetime to finally get home. Say what you will about the inner citadel- that it is safe, clean, and peaceful- but that just makes her commute one of the most hellishly long in stronghold. A two hour truck ride, forty minute subway ride, and twenty minute walk after the end of the operation, and she is only now getting home.

At least the raid had been a success. A resounding one, if you wanted to be generous about it. A month of scouting, planning, and practice had finally paid off; Two nests exterminated in one night, with no casualties or major injuries to speak of. It was one of the most productive operations the unit had had in a while. Ananke herself had put down no less than twenty Infected all from the comfort of her assigned hideout, before coming in close range to take care of the last of the stragglers. She has some cuts and bruises, the usual reward for a job well done, but no bites, thank god.

She's tending to those wounds now, slapping on some antiseptic and bandages, when her front door is wrested open.

Ananke sighs. North.

She's long since given up on locking the front door, because no one but North bothers to break in, and when he does he always ends up breaking her locks somehow (?) when he forces his way through. At this point the specialist has completely given up on trying to stop him from invading her personal space. What's she supposed to do? Report him to his superior? That'd be a funny joke if it weren't so stupid a thought.

It doesn't take long for him to find her in her sparse living room, sitting on the couch (which she only got after North complained about her only having chairs, because that's the kind of thing he likes to complain about) with her sleeves rolled up, cotton balls and disinfectant in hand. "Hello sir," she croaks, not bothering to get up from her seat. Other superiors get a salute and eye contact. North only gets this. Honestly, he doesn't even seem to notice the difference. "I've already written and submitted my report for the operation." Code words for: there is absolutely zero reason for you to be here.

Ananke is tired.

So very, very tired.

"I'm afraid you've come all this way for nothing then, sir, because I don't have anything particularly insightful to add." Too tired to fight back, but certainly not so tired that the specialist is going to sit back and let her superior's pestering distract her from her actual task at hand. North is an unnerving man- possibly an evil one, from the way he constantly delights in making people uncomfortable for his own amusement, but they've been working together for so long that Ananke is simply... used to it.

(After all, if you let a frog sit in steadily boiling water, they'll eventually boil to death, but if you let it stew in water just under boiling, it'll just sit there forever.)

Ananke sighs, deeply and without restraint, before picking up where she left off without missing a beat. "The purpose of today's operation was to raid two nests that had been identified in close proximity to each other." As she speaks, the specialist continues tending to her various wounds. She may as well be talking to thin air at this point. "Five teams were sent, two for each nest and one support, stationed between two targets." Her voice settles into a steady, almost robotic cadence as she describes the scene, how every operative was placed, how they slowly closed in, how after the first nest had been decimated everyone had converged on the second to speed up the operation. It's a well-practiced recount of the events, as if she were reciting a script from memory (because she was).

He's not even listening.

They've been superior and subordinate for long enough that she can tell. Every once in a while North likes to make someone talk, and talk, and talk, while he eyes glaze over and he clearly stops paying attention. It's not the first time it happened to her and it certainly won't be the last. It's happened so many times that Ananke has started wondering what would happen if she started to... slip. Put in a detail that wasn't exactly true, or even say something completely nonsense just to see if he would notice.

Of course, she is too much the faithful soldier to dare risk such a thing. If North ever found out he was starting to rub off on her, even a little bit, it'd be the end of her.

So Ananke finishes her report, which had been her written submission verbatim, just as she wraps up the last portion of her forearms. That should be good enough for now, she thinks. As long as no infection (of the non-vampiric kind) sets in, she won't have an issue moving around as usual.

With any other officer, that would be the end of it, but of course just as Ananke finishes talking, North decides to wander around her apartment for the umpteenth time. She has no idea why; it's not like he hasn't seen it all before.

And of course he goes straight for the fridge. "Sir, if you're going to eat anything out of there," Ananke sighs, "at least pick something you'll actually eat." She'll never forget the way he'd chewed up one of her ration bars and immediately spit it out in front of her. And then complained about having no dessert. She has pudding in the fridge these days specifically so he'd stop going on about it. If he eats it, he better not spit it out again.

"Those ration bars are formulated to prioritize effectiveness over aesthetics, sir. As are many things in the military," Ananke argues half-heartedly. All she's really doing is pointing out the obvious, knowing that North loves to ignore said obviousness. As predicted, he goes for the pudding cups, and instead of joining him the soldier merely watches him like a hawk on the off change that he decides to regurgitate all over her carpet again.

(The fact that he didn't get a spoon does not bode well for her.)

"I live just fine, sir," she insists at his insistence. Which is true enough; Ananke's life is consumed enough with work that she seldom has the time or energy for anything else. Besides, it's not entirely her fault. "And, if I left my apartment too often, I risk not being home when a certain superior officer visits. He's very demanding, you understand." She feigns a sigh. For her, this is a very dramatic performance. "He'd get extremely upset if I weren't here at his beck and call. I fear offending him would be more trouble than it's worth."

"I can see why."

North is annoying. That's nothing new to Ananke- he's always annoying. But sometimes that brand of annoying takes on different forms, each more varied and aggravating than the last. Today, North has decided to try flirting, and as much she knows he can't possibly be serious, her face still automatically scrunches up as if a foul taste had spread over her tongue. "I'm afraid I can't. Not to mention it's quite unprofessional of him."

Even more ridiculous is the notion that North wants to 'take her out for fun'. She doesn't need fun in her life. And even if she did, she doesn't need North to find it. "Besides, I'm not exactly in the shape to have 'fun' right now," her next excuse is, gesturing to the bandages and scrapes littering her body. It's probably be poor etiquette to walk around a fancy store or restaurant looking like she'd come back from putting down a horde of Infected (which she had) while clearly not enjoying herself (which she probably would).

The specialist can't help but raise an eyebrow. "And who would these 'no one's be?" North doesn't seem like the type to hang around seedy bars or holes in the wall. She can't imagine him outside of the inner citadel, eating something expensive and probably still not approving of it. It's deceptively hard to get North's approval, at least as far as non-military feats go. "I don't know what company you keep, but I doubt they'd be interested in me." They'd probably be older than she is, richer than she is, and more than willing to look down on her because of that. The higher-ups tend to be like that, and as much as North feigns interest in her, Ananke highly doubts his peers would do the same. Even his interest isn't that of a peer- it's that of a superior, one that likes to play with his food and never actually finish it.

She shoots him a defensive look at his next innuendo. "And I can get dressed on my own. I don't need your help." She scoffs lightly, as if offended by the implication that she's incapable rather than entertain the other reason he'd offered.

Ugh, and there he goes again sticking his fingers into his food. Why does he always do that? As soon as she sees North's face curdle, Ananke's sighs an exasperated sigh. She holds out her hand. "If you're not going to finish it, give it to me." She'd rather not see him vomit another dessert onto her floor. She'll finish it herself if she has to- it's better than wasting food.

"I'm sure you would have been," Ananke says as she rolls her eyes. It's always this with him. Little antics and childish flirting- but they've toed the line for so long that she knows he'd never actually cross it. Still, he never makes anything easy for her, does it?

North looks at his pudding, the pudding she's positive he's never going to eat, and then to her hand. And then back again.

Ugh.

“Let's make a deal. You go get yourself dressed up pretty for me, and I won't waste your precious pudding.” Oh, so he feels like pushing the line today.

Ananke sighs, and despite the fact that she's talking to a superior officer, fails to keep all the exasperation out of her voice. "Really, sir?" She couldn't do that even if she wanted to. The specialist rubs the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. "Did you think I'd be able to just drop everything and do that on the spot? I don't even own a dress." If you weigh the effort it'd take to clean her floor or to go out, buy clothes, and do everything his inane, vague request entailed, she'd rather just spend the time cleaning.

"Even I have my limits, sir. What you're asking for is unreasonable." She approaches the officer, edging towards the plastic cup that North has such a tenuous grip on. "So go ahead. Drop it. See what happens." It's a threatening choice of words, but Ananke doesn't bother to inject any animosity into it. It's the same old dance with them, his unstoppable force against her immovable object. But he won't do anything to really disturb the delicate, infuriating balance they have.

He wouldn't dare.