Who: Gale Hawthorne & Leliana What: Typical shady work on a Tuesday night in which Gale lets out some dream-related stress, nbd. When: Tonight! Where: Ritzy, 5-star hotel Rating/Warnings: Violence, blood, murder, escort impersonations, and some feels. Status: Complete
Distractions had almost ruined Leliana’s little scheme of vengeance. Something like an enormously hungry arachnid rampaging messed up quite a few things, actually, and the window of opportunity had almost been lost - but never fear, this bird had conviction. In the form of sending someone to sabotage their target’s private plane to halt his travel arrangements and strand him in the area a bit longer. He didn’t seem to mind. His hotel accommodations were lavish and expensive (it had a nightclub, six restaurants, your reflection could be seen on the granite tile) and he’d been nudged to wisely spend his time recreationally.
Recreation, of course, in the form of high end escorts. That was Leliana’s role for tonight. Advertised as a foreign dame knowing very little English, he couldn’t really deny the little macaroon that was this petite redhead, could he? She’d doll up with class - a tight dress that almost looked business-like, a generous v-cut dip, and heels so pointy they could almost be used as knives. Light accessories, light makeup in shades of peach and pink, nothing over the top that screamed ‘I’m a hooker, get off my corner.’
Except for maybe the reveal of long milky legs, and that not-so modest cleavage.
“I need you towering and intimidating,” she instructed Gale, their limo (because there was always a limo in these transactions) arriving at the ritzy lodging establishment with a few minutes to spare. Her people already infiltrated - as employees, as regular guests - and they’d been the last to show. “Which you already accomplish on a regular basis, so this will be an easy pass.”
Leliana squeezed his knee. He’d been a bit…tense. This would be his first ride with her and her agents, and it would set the tone for everything else.
Tall and intimidating. Gale did that well, yeah. That was part of the reason why he was going to be good at this - the other reasons why? Maybe had to do with the simmering rage he could feel in his veins, sparkling and alive, in his bones, behind his eyes. Whispering words to him, even, words that he served as sparks that would cause a full-scale fire. So much fire, he and Katniss, it was like they both built up these entire walls made of flames, and nothing could put them out, not even a thousand oceans.
Prim’s death put something in between them too. Something that not even Gale’s stubbornness could crack, and he’d have no choice but to leave her life forever - after so much together, that was going to be how it ended? It tasted like poison. It didn’t go down easily.
“Easy,” he agreed, large hand covering Leliana’s and squeezing gently. Whereas Katniss was just as fiery as he was, Leliana was...cool. She was breezy, but she didn’t fan those flames. Nor did she smother them. She helped him focus though, with the calm and quiet strength. However, he was sure she could pick up on how his muscles were twisted into knots, because of ways that had nothing to do with their job tonight - him as her bodyguard, armed beneath his suit jacket. “You can count on me, I promise. I won’t let you down.”
She believed him, and trusted him - so he wanted to follow through and keep that trust firmly intact.
“I don’t doubt you,” she whispered, the accent a soft caress to her quiet voice. Trust wasn’t an issue. Not between them, and not even when it came to professional matters. Gale wanted to be part of this. A decision made against her better judgment, but she also couldn’t bring herself to make any choice for him. It would not be fair. “This is an easy mission, but even the most simple of tasks can become messy. Good thing we are all very capable people, no?”
To melt away that tension and ease those concerns, delicate fingers curled into his draw him close for a kiss deep enough to smudge the color off her lips. But no worries, her clutch purse came prepared with a couple of cosmetics for emergencies. A ‘good luck’ sort of gesture, tongue coming out for a little provocative dance with his - and the window between them and the driver was up, they weren’t giving him a private show!
The kiss was returned, Gale’s hand slipping around to the back of Leliana’s neck, cradling her head as he tasted the inside of her mouth - and when pale wintry grey eyes finally opened again, he had a spark of amusement flickering there at least. Not so deadly, or dangerous - sometimes people looked his way, and all they saw was a dark cloud hovering over him - shadows, all the gloom. Honestly, that’s all Gale saw sometimes too. He wasn’t like Peeta.
“We’ve got this,” he nodded. And being here as her fake bodyguard and real bodyguard (kind of a dual role, or something?) meant that he would be around to just stick with Leliana even if shit did hit the fan. It was the more preferable option. “I’ll just stay strong and silent behind you, outside the room, whatever you need.” They’d gone over the plan a few times already - obviously Leliana wasn’t really going to sleep with this sleazy fucker, but she had to go through the motions anyway, and he had to play the part of watching out for her well-being as a lady of the night. This escort service was professional. “By the way, you look hot. So hot.”
He wondered what she was wearing beneath that dress, hand skittering up starlight pale thighs to see. Hm.
Something about his hands tickled her, teeth biting down on gloss-smeared lips to muffle a giggle that would tip the driver of naughty shenanigans happening behind that tinted screen. Leliana was wearing something though, thin and silky with black lace around the edges, a complete set of lingerie to fill the role to the T. “Maybe after we are done, you can help me out of this, hmmm?” And he looked rather dapper, all dressed up in a suit to fit the bodyguard profession! Those shirt buttons were begging to be ripped off. With her teeth.
Pout. Did they have time for a little side action in this fancy limo? No? Drat!
Oh, well. Leliana couldn’t do this properly if she arrived already debauched and ravished, so it’d be their little prize of a ‘job well done’ at the end of the night. Assuming it all went out without any kinks to their plot. “We should move,” she purred, bestowing upon him a token eskimo kiss - that tender nose-to-nose rub. “Though you are the best distraction there is.”
It had been awhile since Gale rocked the suit - usually if he was getting fancy, he was wearing the army dress uniform, but tonight that just wouldn’t look right. So something black and dapper it was, without the pomp and circumstance of waistcoats with sashes and medals and ribbons pinned to his chest. Though he’d have to take Leliana to a military function with him sometime soon - she might like that. A thought for another night; he rubber-banded his attention back to the job even though silky underthings beneath her dress and helping her out of it were appealing.
“Sounds like a good way to celebrate,” he agreed, flashing her a grin, tongue swiped across his lips to catch any spare gloss or anything she might have bestowed on him. Then he fixed his hair and, since they had arrived at the scene, got out first to hold the door open for her. Fuck off, driver.
Into the hotel they would go. And damn, it was fancy, he thought, as he took a casual look around. He wondered how much the marble countertops at the check-in desk cost just by themselves.
The cost was high enough to give them both a heart attack, let’s just leave it at that. The massive Milano crystal chandeliers must have been an even prettier penny; there was a line of them on the high ceilings, shimmering lights against the surface. Crystal lamps, crystal decor, all of it transparent and elegant. It wasn’t terribly crowded, nothing special stuck out, and that was the way Leliana wanted it to be.
It wasn’t the front desk they approached - everyone knew about the risk of scandal by cameras, though she’d made sure someone had rigged those regardless - so proper protocol was meeting them elsewhere. Not in the room just yet, but at private table in the hotel’s classic piano lounge (wasn’t this where she celebrated the demise of Mr. Periwinkle?) to officially ‘complete’ the transaction.
Pinpointing him wasn’t a challenge. Not for either of them. Leliana did have a picture of him with a lipstick penis drawn onto him after all, and the man didn’t seem to ooze the feel of sleaze by appearance. Well groomed, a pressed and tailored suite, strong jaw with salt and peppered hair. A typical American politician (with a stay at home wife!) who probably indulged in child prostitution in Thailand, how lovely.
“Much prettier than the pictures,” he said smoothly, blinding white smile, and he took Leliana’s hand for a kiss. Already too much contact for her like, especially when the urge to snap his spine right then and there had been powerful, but she played the role. The little foreign escort who had that sultry smile and barely spoke English, that French accent thickened. Any outsider looking in just got the image that, perhaps, she and Gale were an item - meeting up with a friend, maybe? Act suspicious and earn suspicion from wandering eyes. “How about we go elsewhere and talk some business? I’d love to hear about your views on the new ruling - did you two change your Facebook pictures to rainbows too? America these days, can you believe it?”
A bullshit act but it worked. He led them to the elevator - just the three of them - to a private floor with only a handful of rooms scattered in the corners. A level only for their most prestigious.
Good thing Gale was meant to appear intimidating. Because the look he was giving Mr. Sleazy Politician was one of the melting variety - not in some kind of ‘awwww’ way, but it was a direct heat blast coming from the liquid steel grey of his eyes. It was hatred, everything of the awful, terrible monster he supposedly was. In his dreams, those war-torn mindscapes where he’d lost so much and was already on course to lose even more. So maybe it was intense, but he couldn’t help it - and right now, probably the more intense, the better.
Overall, the look was simply so the victim client knew that he was watching. Observing. And he was dedicated to protecting the interests of this woman here, since that was his job.
He also didn’t talk, because it wasn’t a friendly conversation, not between Gale and anyone. It was Leliana working her way in like a beautiful snake, building rapport, and it was him making a power play with just a look - and he was foreboding enough to do that, just by body type alone.
Oh, he was quite the monster. That lying smile, venom behind it all - his teeth to her looked more like weapons, fangs of a beast. Unlike Gale she couldn’t exactly indulge in exuding that complete and utter disgust, not yet, but Leliana had finely tuned the game of deceit with smiles very well. Her towering guard was all fire and heat. She was arctic ice, chilling and ruthless when it came to business. A double-edged blade wrapped in velvet and silk, a look sweet as candy.
And monster in her own way. A monster who didn’t take the death of a good agent very lightly. The Jane Doe case had suspiciously ‘closed’ but she had every intent to make sure evidence came to light. Starting tonight.
There was plenty of talking too, unfortunately for them but no worries - she played the charming role of ‘I barely speak English but let me giggle because you’re so handsome’ very well, as escorts were hired to stroke more than just dick. The floor was bare and decorated more extravagantly than the other floors, and a housekeeper had been casually polishing up the lamps and mirrors. Dark skinned, glasses so large they covered most of her face and all she did was spare them a glance.
Look close enough, you might notice that knowing tilt of her lips.
“I’ll go inside and prepare some drinks,” he announced, and he wouldn’t stop grinning, the look almost sinister. Outside his room were two equipped bodyguards and he nodded to one. “He’ll let you in soon, sweetheart, just sit tight. And you -” A pointed look to Gale with condescending amusement. He opened his mouth to say something, stopped himself for a bit, then chuckled. “I won’t tell your employer if you leave for lunch. This may take awhile.”
He went inside, and Leliana had been patted down (though rather politely, how nice of them!) for any kind of concealed weaponry. None on her person. She knew better than to sneak knives under her dress. They checked her clutch purse too, all they saw were cosmetics (little did they know the tube of lipstick held a blade instead of lip color, shhhh), and once she was deemed harmless, they stuck the keycard into the lock to allow entrance.
Leliana glanced over her shoulder, eyes going cold. “Je serai bientôt.”
To the slick and sleazy joke from Mr. Slimeball, Gale simply made a noise of agreement, more like, mmmhmm that was a rumble - he even managed a smirk, you know, from one ‘bro’ to another. Go get ‘em, tiger. Little did he know he was about to reach a very undignified end. Leliana’s statement in French earned a head tilt of acknowledgment, a cant of his chin, and he met her eyes - that knowing look in his too, be careful (because he’d always worry, it was unavoidable) - before he looked away and stepped back.
Mostly to assess the other bodyguards in the area. The housekeeper was in on it, that he knew, but Gale didn’t acknowledge her. Except for the flick of his gaze for a fleeting second, to make visual contact and then focus on the door. The walls, the ceiling, the light fixtures.
He hadn’t really felt that urge in awhile. You know, the if I could press a button and eliminate everyone working for the Capitol, I would sensation. But right now, he’d probably enjoy a little more action than simply pressing a button. There was aggression to take out - on these men here. And he looked them over again, seeing them awash in nothing but a bullseye and vulnerable kill spots.
Silence.
Well, mostly. There was a hum of classical music coming from the ceiling speakers, sometimes the elevator made its usual functioning noise - but nothing could be heard from the inside of the room. Not yet. Both guards stood outside the doors patiently but honestly, they looked bored. Tried to look like intimidating marble statues but the fuck, all they did was stand around and--
Thud. Something against the door, almost like a slam. One looked at it suspiciously, raised a brow, and then chuckled. “That guy,” he said, shaking his head. Impressive. Lucky, heinous little bastard.
Then it came again more consistently. Thud. Thud. THUD. Sounds of heating fucking, maybe? Against the door? Christ, mellow down kids, do you want front desk to notify you about noise complaints? One just opted to ignore it, but the other one spotted something seep out of from under the door - liquid, hot and red.
It was wordless communication between the two. Guns readied, they made a motion to open the door to investigate just what the fuck was going on - and when they did, the body of a politician once too cocky fell out, a tube of lipstick sticking out of his throat. Right into his vocal chords. Blood pooled into his mouth. He never got the chance to scream.
Guns shot at the redhead still inside, but they weren’t the only two with a weapon.
Fuck, that thudding. Gale didn’t have much time to ponder it deeply, but he knew what it was, it was funeral bells and lights out for Mr. Skeezy Politician - the signal that meant everything was careening down quickly, a domino effect, and going to plan. What he hadn’t known was that Leliana had been aiming for death by lipstick tube, and he was distinctly impressed at the sight of a slit throat and the frothy gurgle of blood bubbling up from the wound. Also aroused by her ruthlessness, but that was a story for potentially a therapist later on after this.
The sound of bullets firing, even with the silencers (because not having them was fucking unprofessional) - it was a ringing that felt like lightning struck his eardrums directly, for some reason, maybe because it put him mentally back into familiar situations. He reacted quickly, drawing his own weapon, which had been tucked neatly in its holster beneath the dapper suit jacket. From this angle he hit one of the other bodyguards, shot in the back of the head, no hesitation, just bang. Done. His aim was skilled and professional - it came from sniper training, and those cold desert nights sitting up in a tent waiting with a rifle.
That was also why he had no qualms with pulling the trigger either. Not when he was in the zone.
As for the other man, it looked like the housekeeper was on him, having ditched her wide-eyed innocent look to leap and attack, and Gale busied himself with knocking the corpse out of the way so he could actually get into the room.
“Hey Ginger Snap, you good?”
Leliana had expected gunfire, which is precisely why she opted to move from the bullet trajectory. She didn’t have a firearm on her, it’d be quite silly to get in the way and the two on the floor - Gale and the lovely little housekeeper who got really fucking creative with a can of Lemon Pledge - had taken care of the excess weight that were these security personnel. Blood speckled her face like savage war paint, an odd look to that eerie serenity of her face.
A bit messy, but mission accomplished.
“Ginger Snap,” she repeated, a chuckle huffed when she stepped out from behind the wall. She was unscathed. “So sweet of you. You’ve met Rosa, then?”
Rosa, as it was, had used her housekeeping cart (stationed around the corner for in-character purposes) and its supplies very fucking creatively. No weapon, not even a knife, but the second guard had been efficiently bashed to death. “I need a fucking cigarette,” she spat, a latin edge to her words and she poked her head in. “Good thing we planned to have this entire floor cleared, jesucristo. And you -” A bold pat in the ass to Gale. “You’re alright, mijo. You military?”
Next phase would be Rosa’s cleaning and scene set up, and backup would be called to secure the exits in case civilians came stumbling about. Bases covered. All within a half hour, so the job had to be done quickly - and well.
“We...yeah,” Gale chuckled, breathlessly, a little surprised at the pat to his ass. He didn’t mind, the sound he made was just startled, that was all. “We met. Sort of. And good guess,” he confirmed Rosa’s inquiry. “Army. But damn - “ Did the woman seriously bludgeon someone to death with Lemon Pledge? Color him even more impressed. “You’ve got skills, I think most of my commanding officers would have pissed themselves.”
He went into the bathroom to quickly grab a towel for Leliana, to help get the blood off her face - this could just be tossed in Rosa’s handy cleaning supply cart, and probably burned later. “What do you need from me next, boss?”
“S’all about knowing the right spot to hit with any item - though there’s somethin’ really ethnic about killing with household supplies. It’s the Cuban in me,” Rosa chuckled roughly, plucking gloves from her apron to slide over her hands. “You got him good, Nightingale. Marcella was a good girl. Cabron deserved it.”
Rosa thought about spitting but eh, evidence if some real hardass decided to do the just thing and investigate this properly. They’d set it up - the ones that provided this fuckbag with some extra pesos would do the rest for them to keep their identities covered. A circle of bullshit behind the scenes, lies for the media, the public never knowing what really happened. America!
Leliana gratefully snatched the towel to dab her face. Ugh. She felt like she’d been doused with poison. That’s what his blood was. Liquid venom. He killed one of her people - brutally - and she returned the favor. In this line of work, that was called justice. “Rosa has back up and clear instructions. We leave, act normal, like we have been guests here all along. Then I will be in dire need of a shower, thank you.”
She felt filthy. A little flirting and some light touching had to be done to play the role properly without initial suspicion but if she could dip herself in boiling bleach, she’d feel much better.
Circles upon circles of bullshit, politics in this country really no better than Panem - it was supposed to be a democracy here, land of the free and home of the brave, and while maybe they’d taken strides to weed out concepts like slavery (after how long? Women didn’t even have the right to vote until the 1920s), it was still all about how much money you had. Who you could pay off to keep quiet about your many indiscretions, what you could get away with, and power plays. A lot of sickening crap, really, but Gale had made his choices - and he’d stick by them.
“Sounds like a plan, Nightingale, we’ll get you feeling spic and span again,” he said, lips quirking up in a half-smile, his gun tucked away safely. Rage that had bled over from the explosive arrow blasts and Capitol traps and bombs and end-of-an-era explosions still simmered, in his mind, he could feel the tension and the boil behind his eyes - but a job well done here would help quell all of that anyway. “It was good meeting you, Rosa. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again soon.” Maybe she could even show him more household cleaning murder moves - that was some pretty amazing stuff, right there.
What a fucking cutie. Rosa gave them a salute. “See you soon, sangre nuevo. We’ll give ya a call, on the dot, when shit’s done. Before I even get my cigarette.” Rough around the edges and loyal. The Cuban woman was a diamond among gems, a perfectionist in what she did and ruthlessly creative.
Time to leave them to the rest! Leliana hooked her arm around Gale’s, stepping over the bodies and blood puddles and into the elevator. As for the hotel, it functioned as normal. Regular people in and out, laughing in the lobby, a woman on the cell phone crying about some affair going on in these very walls - no one suspected a thing, noticed a thing. The world spun on blindly.
Another day, another corpse. Or three.
“Are you alright?” It was a question begging to be asked once they exited the building, moving down those cement stairs. Decorative fountains gushed on either side, lit up beautifully. “We try and keep things simple. Quick. The less attention, the better.”
“I’m okay,” Gale replied, and it was honest, though the more he dreamed the more he pushed and pulled at the traps in his own head to avoid getting stuck there. Ironic how that worked out, right? The snare expert. But the last thing he needed was to be living with one foot in Panem, and devastation, and one in what was a whole other reality where all that shit didn’t need to exist. “Just had bad dreams and stuff, before this...so...it kind of helped a little.”
Quick, with a lack of attention, that was all fine with him. Once they were outside, he slipped his arm around her, and would be grateful for being back in the limo - which was kind of new, actually, because when the fuck had that ever happened? Never, as far as he could remember. “I knew I wasn’t going to get the girl, or even have much of a happy ending at all, but so far it just seems...cruel.”
Granted, the story wasn’t over yet. But the pain of it all - he wouldn’t be able to bounce back from this devastation.
The limo had never left, of course. Parked by the curb, the driver was a low-level agent that’d been still learning the ropes, being taught by one of the veterans and there wasn’t much to fuck up when all you had to do was drive.
Before climbing in she turned, clasping her hand over his to bring those strong knuckles up for a kiss. Finding a way to deal with the stress of the dreams, to find some sort of comfort from reliving a world of hell in these dreams - it was exactly what started this. A journey she wouldn’t regret. She’d been there for when they got rough, there for the actual nightmares spawned from it. The flogging. “It’s very cruel,” she whispered. “Things here can be...different. You can work for a happy ending. This world is not perfect either, but…it is easier. And I may not be the girl you dream about, but I am one you can have.”
Different. That was it, wasn’t it? Here, it was all different. In all good ways - Gale really couldn’t think of anything from Panem he’d want in this life right now, because he had it all. He didn’t have to struggle to survive and put food on the table for his family by risking his life, hunting illegally every day. He had people he cared about and a whole future that was actually promising - and not hazy, or greyed out from too much coal dust settling in an unforgettable layer over everything.
“You’re the only one I want,” he said, and kissed Leliana on her tempting mouth before climbing back into the limo with her. “Dreams aside. That was the past, you’re here in the present. And you’re also my future.”
So yeah, all things considered? The future was looking pretty bright to him.
It may have taken Leliana a couple seconds to follow pursuit. Those cerulean eyes may have narrowed into something of a leer, tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth in thought. Fighting that curve of a smile had been completely futile, however. Gale had that effect.
“It almost sounds as if you are courting me, Mr. Hawthorne,” she giggled, shutting the door behind her once she slid in. Smooth leather interior, the roof a mimicry of a starlit sky, and there’d been a full bottle of whiskey with glasses still untouched in a built-in ice bucket. Finally, she could drop that clutch and not be so concerned about how pristine she had to look. “Considering your ring pop proposal, how could I say no?”
“I pretty much am - “ Though what the shit did Gale know about courting? Not much, really, but he’d just go with the flow like he had been for most of their relationship build-up thus far. It worked for them. “So I guess I can consider that your acceptance of my intention to court you?” he chuckled - and he was definitely eyeing the whiskey, as they settled into the limo. Felt like they had something else to toast to, in addition to a job well done and the opportunity to blow off some damn steam.
He felt better. A combination of words from her, and action, but overall he’d shaken off the shackles that having those dreams had left on him.
“Only if you accept to be the father of my hairless and featherly children,” Leliana smirked. She had the same thought in mind when it came to that liquid courage in a bottle - she stretched herself across Gale, half on his lap and half not (and wiggled on that handsome prize between his legs, purposefully), and instead of doing the classy things of pouring them each a portioned glass, she yanked the entire thing out of the ice. “We can seal the deal with a bit of a drink, no?”
Wine and something sweetly mixed was usual her poison but sometimes an exception was depending on the situation. Top undid, she took a the first swig and passed it on. A tingly burn. It tasted exactly the way it felt.
Gale liked whiskey. Maybe it was technically an old man drink or something, but it was smooth, and had a bit of bite at the same time, and reminded him of peat and smoke in the aftertaste. He took the bottle from Leliana and, hey, fuck the glasses. A generous swig went down his throat and he flashed a grin at her, pulling her all the way into his lap with his free arm, the bottle able to be passed back and forth between them for easy access.
“Father of your hairless and featherly children? I accept all responsibilities of that job,” he said, and speaking of easy access. His hand slipped in between her knees to glide upward, thumb stroking the expanse of smooth skin that he’d been tempted by, with her in that dress. “We’ll just be an unconventional family.”
Unconventional, like everything else with them. But whatever. He’d just consider it meant to be.
His lap, hm? Leliana wouldn’t turn down the new comfy spot, dress hiking up throughout the adjusting but his hands had plans apparently, snaking between legs. “Considering you already do most of the responsibilities of that job,” she added, pushing their lips together to giggle against his lips, a whiskey taste. “Suppose that means I will take responsibility over Ms. Nutella too, oui?” The actual furbaby out of their array of strange pets, who blended in with the nugs and accepted them like some sort of brethren. It was cute.
Bottle aside (she didn’t want to drink too much, just enough for that warm buzz to course through her veins), both hands slid up to caress that tie - a very attractive addition to the ‘bodyguard ensemble’ - and tugged. “Thank you. For staying. For not quitting on me.”
‘Thank you’ today. Someday it would be replaced with something else, something that would cement this even deeper. Leliana knew it’d come. It was hard not to, with him.
“Definitely not a quitter,” Gale stated quite seriously, but there was a flicker of warmth in his gaze, before his head fell forward and he found his favorite, most comfortable spot on the pillows that were Leliana’s soothing bosom. “I never even thought about it. Not once.” It was the truth, if she could believe it. Maybe before, when they were just tiptoeing around everything and unsure whether or not to continue dipping into the would-be relationship waters (slowly, everything at its own pace), then he maybe questioned. Was tripped up by uncertainty.
But he never felt the desire to walk away. Never wanted to end all this.
He nosed along her jawline, taking in the scent of her perfume. Her skin. Also comforting to him. “It’s equal too, right? So I should also be thanking you.”
“You’re a special kind of stubborn,” she expressed with utmost fondness, kissing atop his head, breathing him in. Leliana believed him, she didn’t need any convincing - he stayed even though he stumbled upon a room with questionable evidence and proof that there was something amiss. Yet it only made him stand his ground more, a giant that refused to be moved. Only a concern for her safety, the oddest thing about it all.
Now he was involved. He had killed for the job. She had a responsibility to him. As an employer, as a lover. A thin line already blurred. A hand went between them and she tapped his chin up some, a tortuous gesture away from her breasts, surely. “But I suppose I am too. Just not as hotheaded and loud about it as you are, my dear,” was her tease, rubbing their noses together.
Hotheaded. That pretty much was the buzzword when it came to Gale, right? He smirked, almost proudly, because Leliana didn’t try to squelch his fire. She knew how to temper it when need be - she knew when to remind him that he didn’t have to be strong all the time. Not every second, of every day. Sometimes there were good things in this life, and he should savor them.
“It works. For you, for us.” Another eskimo kiss (since they seemed to be one of her favorites), the kind she’d given him to kickstart their first adventure together on the job. He was in deeply now, and he knew it - but he liked the job (wasn’t the first time he’d pulled the trigger on someone, wouldn’t be the last - it was just a different, more sleek and stealthy kind of war), being under her employ. He respected her, and at the same time, there wasn’t anyone else who she could trust to really protect her the way Gale would - he’d literally take a bullet and then some for her, he’d travel anywhere and go anyplace, all by her side and doing his part to keep her safe. It was a blur of the professional-romantic relationship, but the best kind.
So yeah, it worked. And in a world where they couldn’t be certain what would happen from one day to the next, whatever did work? Hey, if ain’t broke, don’t fix it.