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"We should talk," was all he'd said to Coyote in the bar, after a few aborted (and silent, aside from the stilted greetings) attempts at broaching a conversation. There wasn't a corner removed enough, though, and the idea of the rooms upstairs, well. They didn't have the most appropriate atmosphere.
"Come see my new place!" he'd said instead, with a little too much enthusiasm. So they'd strolled through the door, up the street, and into his new apartment building with Raguel in grim silence and Coyote apparently in relaxed spirits. Once inside, though, Raguel came partially back to life to play tour guide.
"Front door opens onto the living room, but I don't mind. Er. Got a new table. Black," he adds helpfully.
"Come see my new place!" he'd said instead, with a little too much enthusiasm. So they'd strolled through the door, up the street, and into his new apartment building with Raguel in grim silence and Coyote apparently in relaxed spirits. Once inside, though, Raguel came partially back to life to play tour guide.
"Front door opens onto the living room, but I don't mind. Er. Got a new table. Black," he adds helpfully.
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Not many people who go to Milliways lose bodies and still come back, after all.
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"You know the ups and downs of the place better than just about anybody, though, I'll give you that."
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The trouble she doesn't choose never ends up being much fun, after all. See: Oberon, Blodwen, skinwalkers. Yeah. Three for three.
"And thank you, dear. I do pride myself on it."
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"Not a bad idea, I guess. I never seem to get the hang of that."
The smile morphs rather quickly into a small frown. Speaking of choosing your trouble.
"You can't be hurt by things that are meant specifically to harm demons, can you?"
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Don't ask how she knows.
"But a blessed axe is still an axe."
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"And blessed bullets are still bullets."
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Or, someone with blessed bullets who isn't too picky about the definition of 'demon' and has an itchy trigger finger? She knows the type.
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"I doubt it'll be a problem. New kid in the bar, panicked and shot before he thought. Itchy trigger finger, maybe, but it was an accident."
See? Nothing to worry about.
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"Of course, no problem."
Lengthy pause.
"And who might have been the victim in this...'accident'?"
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"I was," he says, "but I'm fine. One of the perks of the job."
Oh man, he should not have brought this up.
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She sees.
"And was there a particular reason we did not discuss this before an accidental wedding that was already over?"
She doesn't see.
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Flail. He could really use a cigarette, but that would be showing weakness, and weakness could be fatal at this point.
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Coyote needs a cigarette too. Or possibly that drink she passed up before.
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"Which is completely different. I was trying to help him out with these demon rats that were coming in, I don't know... he got a little trigger-happy."
Raguel's not standing, so it would be hard for him to physically dig in his heels. Nevertheless, he gives that impression.
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"But no one was injured by very short marriages! Notice how I did not need to warn you about shotgun weddings, but you feel the need to warn me of shotguns!"
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Actually, in his experience this is usually not true, but he is at least aware that his experience is a little skewed.
"And in 'watch out for Lilly,' I consider myself duly warned already."
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Coyote stomps her foot. "Fighting rat demons should not lead to death of anything but the rats! I would suspect you of going soft!"
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"It didn't lead to the death of anything but the rats," he argues. "And... how the hell do you get 'going soft' out of 'I was shot in the chest while doing this?'" he demands.
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"I wasn't the first, either. He's just a confused kid, he - he says he won't do it again."
Raguel can't quite believe he's defending Joris this way. It still sounds like a pretty pathetic defense.
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Do tell her, Raguel. Maybe you'll give her an idea.
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"I believe him."
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She waves a careless hand.
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