There was only one person who was so exuberantly obnoxious in public. Especially with Dallas Saraiva-Hertado. The one who'd hounded and hassled him for fucking years before being transferred off only just recently.
He had been free of her.
Not!
"Dallas! Dallas, you motherfucke--Don't you try to ignore me!" Delilah half-chastised, half shouted as she ran (remarkably well in four inch heels, which yes, she was very proud of and had in fact practiced in her spare time) across the courtyard following the end of her, and apparently his, shift.
They'd had a rocky relationship--pure straight man, comic relief man, not to mention their fair share of good-cop, bad-cop--but Delilah could honestly say she had grown rather fond of her prickly associate. It comes with the territory of watching each other get shot, stabbed and all other various things on the job. The only other thing that brought two people closer was wiping each other's ass and well, Dallas was shit out of luck in that regard. Delilah'd done that for Sawyer, she sure as shit wasn't going to do that for a grown ass man.
He was a whole head taller than her, but that did not stop her from throwing her arm over his shoulder (aided by the heels, of course) and pulling him toward her for a companionable hug.
"How've you been? Keeping sane? I know your life must be horribly dull without me," she said, miming a demure swoon; the back of her hand pressed to her forehead and a delicate sigh.
With a few affectionate thumps on his shoulder, she released him and spun to walk backwards. All the better to watch his tired expressions and all the annoyance her presence could draw out of him. "But, your guardian angel is here to protect your social life once more, and my god," she said, shaking her head ruefully up at him, "Do you ever need the assistance.
"Have no fear," Delilah continued, spreading her arms and bowing her head in a magnanimous show, not unlike a fairy tale king addressing his loyal subjects. "Percy has Sawyer tonight, so we are free to have as many drinks as possible to get you to have fun for once in your sad, sad life."
After a beat, and an appraising look, down and then back up. "Or die trying," she added, with a wink.
Oh, he wasn't in the King's Boulevard by choice. Between the Military headquarters and his humble apartment (by Inner Citadel standards) was a long stretch of boutiques, bars and whatever else the Inner Citadel citizens indulged themselves in. In order to get to his home, he'd have to suffer through the groups of loud, carefree youth and snobbish, well-dressed couples, which he did so by gluing his eyes forward and barely acknowledging anyone who passed.
It was difficult when Alexander Geoff was at his side. The man, stellar opposite to Dallas, was sociable and smiley. Whatever gruff, anti-personal demeanor Dallas exuded was swallowed by Alex's brilliant smile and charming eyes. It was all the lieutenant could do to shy his eyes away whilst Alex waved or spoke to someone they passed. He was half-tempted to shake his friend off of him as he was engaged in conversation, his mind already tuned to the quiet evening of reading and tea that lay ahead of him, when he heard his name being shouted across the Boulevard.
The eyes that turned sharply to him made him want sink back into his shoulders, but what was worse was the source of that shout. Delilah Odell, his former compatriot back when they were both privates, ran towards him. Despite her long heels her gait was swift and bounding- in other words, too quickly for Dallas to turn up the collar of his coat and pretend he did not see or hear her. Her slender arms wrapped themselves around his neck and Dallas forgot how much shorter she was, for her presence and demeanor gave her a larger stature than her physical height denoted.
"Odell," Dallas said with a impersonal gruffness like he were reading off her badge number. He cautiously embraced her back, what was a brief and reserved wrap of his arm around her shoulder blades.
At her flamboyant display, Dallas could only frown, as he stuffed his hands back in the pockets of his jacket. In his mind ran a host of excuses, brainstormed and trimmed from their many days together of Delilah coaxing him for a night out and him hurriedly rejecting. But his eyes flickered to Alex, and between the two of them, he was sure he would not get out of this. So he sighed, defeated, and asked, "Where were you thinking?"
Posted 09-27-2021, 02:47 PM
Wolves will run together tonite
