un_fallen | (no subject)

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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.

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"In Milliways, not asking for trouble is an almost certain way of getting it," she replies, dry. "I know this as well as any other patron. Perhaps more than a large percentage."

Not many people who go to Milliways lose bodies and still come back, after all.

"Yeah, you probably do. Not sure I'd say you never ask for it, though," he adds, raising an eyebrow at her.

"You know the ups and downs of the place better than just about anybody, though, I'll give you that."

"Of course I ask for it. Into all lives a little trouble must fall. Since this is true, I prefer to pick and choose my trouble."

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."

He smiles a little more openly now.

"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?"

Coyote raises an eyebrow. "Holy water only gets me wet."

Don't ask how she knows.

"But a blessed axe is still an axe."

"Yeah, I guess so," he says grimly.

"And blessed bullets are still bullets."

"Is there perhaps something I should know?"

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.

He shrugs, waves one nonchalant hand.

"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.

Coyote nods along, giving Raguel a big smile with plenty of sharp, pointy teeth.

"Of course, no problem."

Lengthy pause.

"And who might have been the victim in this...'accident'?"

He sighs. There is just no arguing when she gets... toothy.

"I was," he says, "but I'm fine. One of the perks of the job."

Oh man, he should not have brought this up.

"I see."

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.

"Because it was an accident, and everyone is fine, and I just asked because I don't want people I-- people getting hurt. Who might be hurt by them. Blessed bullets. Or any bullets. Dammit."

Flail. He could really use a cigarette, but that would be showing weakness, and weakness could be fatal at this point.

"Oh, so it is perfectly fine when you walk into danger, but not when I do the same?"

Coyote needs a cigarette too. Or possibly that drink she passed up before.

"I didn't walk into it knowing that I'd be shot," he says, exasperated.

"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.

"I did not walk into the bar knowing I would be married! Lilly is more than a little trigger happy with her marriages," Coyote mutters.

"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!"

"Marriages," he explains slowly, "do not often end in death."

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."

She really wants to say 'obviously you have not been married very often', but this would not prove her point.

Coyote stomps her foot. "Fighting rat demons should not lead to death of anything but the rats! I would suspect you of going soft!"

This is probably very wise of her.

"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.

"Because you got shot in the chest while you were doing it! In the chest?" Her voice is edging perilously close to a shriek, now. "How is that no harm done! Who is this boy! I would have words with him."

"I've already had words with him," he points out, trying to defuse the situation a little, but his temper isn't allowing him to play the 'calm voice of reason' card.

"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.

"You are so concerned with the welfare of the boy who shot you? What do you think I will do to him, hm?"

Do tell her, Raguel. Maybe you'll give her an idea.

"I don't know," he says desperately. And he doesn't think he wants to.

"I believe him."

"You trust far too easily, sweet Raguel. Which is to my favor, I suppose. Very well. I will do no harm to this boy of yours."

She waves a careless hand.

Still half-ready to defend himself in a fistfight, he sinks back down into the cushions. Funny, he didn't realize he'd nearly stood up.

"Oh. Okay... thank you."

Coyote sniffs. "If you claim no injury, I can only take my disagreement so far before it becomes ludicrous. I will not be held responsible for your having no sense of self worth."