anita blake/highlander crossover thingy. snippet, or drabble, even,
part of a much longer fic which has vanished into my endless collection of notebooks.
Edward doesn't trust him. Not at all, not even a little bit, and it's not just because Edward doesn't trust anybody. Pierson's eyes are too sharp to belong to a man who's spent his entire life buried in academia, and the most telling part is that those eyes only sharpen when the man thinks that no one is looking. Anyone who can lie with their eyes is dangerous, and Pierson may very well be the best liar that Edward has ever met. The man has even managed to fool Anita, and Anita had Edward pegged as a professional within five minutes of their first conversation.
It is the little things that give him away; the tells that even the best of professionals might miss, but that Edward notices every single time: the way Pierson's eyes slide almost reflexively over both of them as they enter the room and pause at every hidden weapon; the unobtrusive, casual way that the man keeps both of them in front of him at all times, the slide of baggy clothing over the slight protrusion of hidden weaponry, concealed with an expert's careful hand.
All of these mannerisms lie at subtle odds with Pierson's carefully constructed facade, as though the man's mask isn't entirely large enough to cover whatever he's hiding beneath it. The flashes of cold professionalism set Edward's nerves jangling like alarm bells. The reaction is made worse by the fact that Pierson's caution seems to be mostly automatic; reflex without the sloppiness of habit and also without any sort of immediacy to signal that the man feels threatened by either of them.
The logical inference, then, is that Pierson is lying to everyone for reasons of his own that are as yet undiscovered. The man is playing the awkward young academic to the hilt - and Edward's instincts are telling him that there is something interesting behind that mild-mannered exterior. Something that might be worth killing. He'd lied to Anita about only killing for money. Sometimes he does it for the challenge.
Edward doesn't trust him. Not at all, not even a little bit, and it's not just because Edward doesn't trust anybody. Pierson's eyes are too sharp to belong to a man who's spent his entire life buried in academia, and the most telling part is that those eyes only sharpen when the man thinks that no one is looking. Anyone who can lie with their eyes is dangerous, and Pierson may very well be the best liar that Edward has ever met. The man has even managed to fool Anita, and Anita had Edward pegged as a professional within five minutes of their first conversation.
It is the little things that give him away; the tells that even the best of professionals might miss, but that Edward notices every single time: the way Pierson's eyes slide almost reflexively over both of them as they enter the room and pause at every hidden weapon; the unobtrusive, casual way that the man keeps both of them in front of him at all times, the slide of baggy clothing over the slight protrusion of hidden weaponry, concealed with an expert's careful hand.
All of these mannerisms lie at subtle odds with Pierson's carefully constructed facade, as though the man's mask isn't entirely large enough to cover whatever he's hiding beneath it. The flashes of cold professionalism set Edward's nerves jangling like alarm bells. The reaction is made worse by the fact that Pierson's caution seems to be mostly automatic; reflex without the sloppiness of habit and also without any sort of immediacy to signal that the man feels threatened by either of them.
The logical inference, then, is that Pierson is lying to everyone for reasons of his own that are as yet undiscovered. The man is playing the awkward young academic to the hilt - and Edward's instincts are telling him that there is something interesting behind that mild-mannered exterior. Something that might be worth killing. He'd lied to Anita about only killing for money. Sometimes he does it for the challenge.