[[ milliways ]]

[almosthonorable]

whitetextiswhite

It's early -- early enough that the bar proper is more quiet than loud. Ben likes mornings like this in here, when he can sit with his coffee at one elbow and his hat by the other on the counter, and he isn't taking up more space than might be considered polite.

This particular morning, he's also got a box of ammunition in front of him, courtesy of Bar; as soon as the gray light outside bleeds to red-gold, he'll stride out back for some target practice.

Comments

[almosthonorable]

"Most of 'em, yeah -- the smart ones always do."

A beat.

"No magic, though, nothin' like what you can do."

[ellectrical]

She glances to his Colt.

"Are they better than the people you hire?"

[almosthonorable]

A half-smirk tugs up one corner of his mouth.

"I tend to hire the best."

And the best, Ben has found, are the kind who don't let scruples get in the way of hard decisions.

[ellectrical]

Elle nods, faintly.

Then, with the same sort of smile and movement that doesn't seem to match her question at all -

"Want to do it again?"

[almosthonorable]

"I surely do."

With a smile and a wink, he crosses the middle distance to take down his target and tack up a new one for Elle.

As he makes his way back to the firing line, he puts in his earplug with his free hand.

[ellectrical]

Elle, in the meantime, loads her clip with blanks once more.

When he returns, she replaces her own earplugs, but also lowers her gun, and takes a more insistent step back, making it clear she'll wait for him to go this time.

[almosthonorable]

Half-surprised by the gesture, he chuckles to himself and reloads, movements as sure as they are practiced.

He lines up the target, aims, and fires; six shots, and he's surveying his handiwork.

It's a near-perfect set -- two rounds hit the center X, and four ring it within the center circle, marking north, south, east and west.

Holstering the Colt once more, he makes for the target to replace it.

[ellectrical]

She waits, her expression dimming once more. There's no nod, as she doesn't do much in returning gestures, but she also doesn't move until he's returned, and the target is safely in her view.

Her shots this time are not so uneven, but while they all stay mostly gathered around the center, none hits it straight on.

It's not quite out of exasperation, but this still may be why once she lowers her gun, it's in her left hand - with her right, she throws out a bright arc of electricity that streaks through the air toward the target.

That does hit the center X.

[almosthonorable]

"Well."

Ben glances at the charred and smoking target. It's an impressive (and chilling) sight.

His eyes flick back to Elle.

"That's one way to do it, Goliath."

[ellectrical]

"It's easier."

That's something like an admission for Elle.

"For me."

[almosthonorable]

Curiously, "How often do you have to practice like that? Or does it come more ... natural?"

[ellectrical]

She shrugs one shoulder.

"Like for anything else." The only thing that comes naturally are the sparks.

"But I've been doing it longer."

[almosthonorable]

He nods; what she's saying makes sense, of course.

"You burn through a lot of paper targets at home?"

[ellectrical]

She opens her mouth to answer, then seems to change her mind about it midway.

"Do you shoot a lot of paper targets at home?"

[almosthonorable]

Ben's mouth opens.

Closes.

Opens again.

And he chuckles, rich and low.

"No."

A beat.

"We don't really have 'em. But I tend toward the live ones, anyhow."

[ellectrical]

"Yeah, well."

She takes one step toward him. There's no smile anymore, though nothing else, either. Her expression has dimmed, but hasn't turned cold.

"That's usually how it is for me."

[almosthonorable]

He sobers, again wondering about the specifics of the kind of work Elle takes on.

"And do you hire people to help you not get killed?"

[ellectrical]

It takes her a moment to answer this.

"Usually they owe me," she says, finally.

Unless it's X.

"And it's - to do something I can't."

After another pause, she adds, "Usually I'm the one that gets hired."

[almosthonorable]

His eyes cut to the obliterated target, and he tips his head toward her in deference.

"I'm not surprised -- you're a smart hire."

[ellectrical]

She shrugs one shoulder, her expression dimming a little again.

"And I'm really cheap."

There's a beat, and she gets something of a small smile back. "And I can take care of myself."

[almosthonorable]

Ben's forehead wrinkles.

"Now, I'll admit, I don't know the first thing about what the goin' rate would be, or what the market looks like where you are. But."

He lifts a hand to tick off points with his thumb and fingers.

"You can handle yourself, you can handle a gun, and with what else you can do, why wouldn't you raise your price?"

[ellectrical]

"I don't need the money."

Her eyes flicker away to the target for a moment, then back.

"Sometimes - other stuff. But not that."

[almosthonorable]

The answer earns another nod, short and quick.

He's still curious, but he won't press the issue; Lord knows he's the last person who should ask others about their motivations when it comes to dangerous lines of work.

[ellectrical]

But Elle lingers, making no more motion than to tilt her head slightly.

Maybe waiting to see if he'll ask, or lead into something else.

[almosthonorable]

Ben tips his head toward the range.

"All done out here?"