bakerstreet | On Your Doorstep

On Your Doorstep

They ended up on your doorstep, quite literally. Bloody, possibly. Bruised, most definitely, though the wounds may be mental. You probably don't know them from Adam, yet you couldn't find it in you to turn them away - whether they wanted you to or not. So you opened up your home, just for a little while.

But it's getting to be more than a little while. Both of you are finding a comfort zone, because you didn't simply open up your home. Admit it or don't, but you've opened up your heart all the same.

Their's is slowly following, if its reluctant at all.

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Oh, I don’t know. Something about parading around like a hooligan, maybe? Not behaving as a proper noble should?

[Or a million other complaints that all have merit. Hawke’s reputation is… Colorful, to say the least.

She dismisses the idea as readily as she brought it up in the first place with a flippant wave of the hand, carrying on with a spring in her step and a care-free attitude that doesn’t quite mesh with the dismal scenery. It’s easy to ignore fatigue when the conversation is good and the companionship is better.]

I’m always fighting someone at some time of day. Crime never rests, you know how it is. The fact that it’s late is the very reason I was doing it alone. I’d already seen everyone off for the day. And then they pounced, and then I pounced, and then they were no more. The end.

You could have come to me. You know I wouldn't turn you away. It doesn't matter how late it is. Justice never sleeps.

[His lips quirk at the double meaning, but he means every word of it. His tone shifts back into seriousness, arms stiffening around her elbow.]

If something had happened to you... I don't know what I would do. Knowing I was so close, that I could have done something about it... Don't make me worry like that.

I got there eventually, didn’t I? That’s the important thing.

[No apologies or promises to be found here, only subtle misdirection and ripe excuses. Reckless behavior comes second-nature to her, and it’s not an easy habit to break. She pats his elbow, all bolstering smiles lacking the serious disposition of his own projection, blasé in comparison. For someone who came so close to a brush with death, it’s a bit unsettling.]

Besides, it’s not as if I did it on purpose. That’s what the “surprise” in “surprise attack” means. Suppose I could have run off mid-battle, but then it would have been me at your door plus all those dwarves. Very messy. Way more collateral damage. I think it turned out alright.

[Hawke had put him in this situation and would put him here again. Anders would be ready to help her when it happened - there was no question about if - and he knew it already. That doesn't make him any happier about it.]

That was a close one, Hawke.

[He wasn't about to say what would happen next time; he wouldn't let that happen. It would just help if Hawke would let him help her instead of coming after the fact. There was only telling her so much, and anyhow he'd do as much for her as he could.]

Good thing I'm here now.

It was, wasn’t it?

[That only makes her puff up with pride, as if it’s an accomplishment to be proud of. Not the response he was hoping for, more than likely. Clashing philosophies hard at work. It doesn’t slow her pace down at all, her footsteps staying sure in spite of the minor ache hounding her movements.

A slight pause has Hawke leaning her head against his ruffled shoulder, giving his arm a squeeze. Obviously the only way to fix this problem is through smothering him with affection and needling with a sing-song voice.]

Guess you’ll have to stick around in case it happens again.

[Fix the problem? Absolutely not. Unless Hawke took a vow of violence celibacy, he couldn't stop worrying. And even then it would be unlikely. But it helped, being near her, knowing that he's there if anything happens.]

I'll stay by your side for as long as you want me. [Which in retrospect sounded better than how it came out but was no less true. He quickly changes subject.] The Carta won't know what hit them.

[The thought of their magic blending together on the battlefield - or a Darktown sewer, it was just as apt - is enough to give him chills though.]

Mm, that might be longer than you bargain for. [And suddenly Hawke is very glad that her current position hides her face rather well, though she goes on to amend her own statement. When in doubt, make yourself the punchline.] I mean, I’m not even paying you to do it. Surely your charity can only run so far.

I think the Carta have scattered for now, at any rate. It looks like they even cleaned up the bodies. [Their progress through Darktown demonstrates as much, a distinct lack of corpses paving their way. The usual grime is present as always, of course, but at least there's no signs of a massacre dampening the mood.] Left some of the smaller chunks, though. I think that’s someone’s pinky...

[Anders chuckles, casting a soft smile her way, and uses a tone just as amused.] All those sovereigns I could have made by now!

[But no, there's no dwelling on it on it now.] Good thing for you, the cost of living in Darktown isn't as much as you'd think. And with the help of my secret benefactor, I'm not about to start charging now.

[He owed as much to Hawke as the refugees who donated what spare clean rags and crusty bread they had. Varric's and Hawke's connections mean security to carry on helping people who truly needed it, though. That was worth more than any money he could have made.

It would have been nice to have that money if for nothing else than to clean Darktown up a bit, though. Anders sighs as the finger and a chunk of unidentifiable flesh.]

I take it this is where it all went down?

More or less. A bit over here, a touch over there... But I’d say this is where the gist of it occurred, yes.

[Hawke’s relieved there was someone to clean up most of the mess, and the relief only runs deeper at not having to thank whoever was responsible. As much joy as she gleans from procuring evidence of her conquests, this is one story she can afford to spare the physical proof for. Comedy is tragedy plus time, and until said time has settled, she’ll only succeed in adding to Anders’ worries. The bragging will have to come later.

The usual teasing, however? That waits for no man.]

Would you rather stick around for a healthy debate over which pieces are what body parts, or hurry along home so I can properly express my gratitude?

[So Hawke isn't the most subtle person in the world. Anders knows this. He also knows her clumsy flirting is one of the most endearing things he's ever encountered and that it's becoming harder and harder to refuse the part of him that enjoyed it, hoped for it.

The urge to lean in and flirt back is strong, but he doesn't want to lead her on unless she's ready to commit to him and only him. Still, smiles at her fondly, not stupid, and uses that knowing tone of his.]

Hm, that depends. What are you suggesting?

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On Your Doorstep

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