A storm to would-be death

[spysinspades.livejournal.com]

[He'd gotten the power back. He'd finally (though it was hard to tell if his efforts had actually done anything for it) coordinated everything and the power was back on.

And he was so tired. Ready to sleep. Sleep harder and longer than he had in years. Until this little anonymous (no, that wasn't true. He knew him, knew all his Spades. It was just the exhaustion talking, the exhaustion) had appeared to what?

What, exactly did this child thing he could do to the King of Spades?

Nothing.

Which is why his voice is a frozen rumble as be literally tosses the would-be assassin out of his room, stalking into the hallway after the body.]

That is not acceptable behavior.

Comments

[spysinspades.livejournal.com]

Two hours would be perfect.

[A charming smile that didn't manage to hit his eyes is sent her way.]

Thank you for your patience.

[civilizedpoison.livejournal.com]

Oh, it's no problem at all, Your Majesty.

[But she doesn't leave yet. She turns a little on her heel and reaches out to stroke one finger down the assassin's cheek. When she speaks, it's in a bit of a coo. A little like her mother's tone in these sort's of situation. The man probably had no reason to recognize it, really.

But he had instincts enough for his eyes to widen and his breath to hitch.]

Have fun.

[spysinspades.livejournal.com]

[David watched with narrowed eyes. She sounded too much like her mother for his liking.

It couldn't he helped at this point, however. Sometime to deal with later. To keep a weather eye out for.]