Re: Elevator
Daniel lacked intimidation in every pore. There was nothing about him that was effort, nothing calculated. He was thinking, yes, sober enough to think a lot and of many things at once, but none of that thinking equated machination. He didn't manipulate, Daniel. He just did. He was too lazy and too bored to worry about the effect he had on others, and since deep down all he really wanted to do was hide without guilt, everything else came second.
He came after her, hands in his pockets, a shadow at her shoulder. She was loud and he was quiet, she bright and he dark, but he looked past her at the security man, and they were a couple. "Let us through, or I'll find someone to order you to do it." He said it with such certainty, with total lack of effort, that it was hard to imagine it being anything but the truth. As he had below, he simply waited for the security man to respond, without haste, without worry. In the meantime he leaned his weight gently into Sam's hip and side, as if that was what she was there for. He smelled sweetly, of the neon drink he had just downed, something dusty or musty, and some expensive incense cologne that barely made it to the senses.
Eventually the man moved. Daniel was non-confrontational, patient, and totally without threat. His threat seemed to have no teeth, and it hurt no one's pride. He was also wearing a suit-coat that cost several thousand. Daniel let Sam precede him, and he did not offer thanks as they went. His chin brushed Sam's shoulder as she moved past him.