*finishes rounds* *puts gun down after sliding on the safety*
Dad and I went camping when I was young, right before I did my whole rebellion thing. Up in the mountains, all by ourselves, and he goes off with his gun to kill food. *gestures* My dad's nuts.
Anyway, I'm by myself in the camp and I hear a gunshot and I completely flip out, and I actually climb a tree to hide in. Dad's not very pleased, so when we get back, he teaches me to fire a gun. *smrik* Mom was so ticked, since it wasn't exactly legal, but... *shrugs*
Your father...the cop, taught you how to shoot. He did a fine job. I'm guessing it's been a few years since you've held a gun and you can still hit a target like that. *smiles* I'm actually impressed, Spenc-Shawn.
*takes a few steps closer, but stops, instead leaning against the booth's wall*
I keep up my practice with the nine-millimeter. Never learned the others well enough to be as good. I was notoriously lazy as a kid. *smiles at Lassiter*
*blows out breath* I'm not entirely sure. The way I was trained... *rubs brow* He made it into games and taught me things like it was everyday stuff all parents told their kids. I learned how to move silently will playing hide and seek with Gus, actually.
*blinks* I've never handled a glock. *takes it gingerly* Heavier. It's gonna have one hell of a kickback...
*slides protective glasses higher on nose* *hesistates, aims* *fires off once* Holy cr- *grips gun tighter, completely missed* Okay, um... That was embarrassing. *coughs* *sets gun down on bench*
*grabs the gun* *steps up beside him* Your stance is good, just *shifts Shawn's right foot a little* There.
*gives him back the gun* Now, hold the gun firmly with both hands. No, not in a death grip. No, not that loose- *sighs* Here. *stands behind him, adjusting Shawn's hands, lingering momentarily*
*voice a little breathy, whispering right in Shawn's ear* Okay, I know you can aim so *points* just try to at least hit the target. Doesn't matter if it's perfect, just so long as you hit something. *for a moment, doesn't move, feeling the press of Shawn's body, warm and-*
*stands back quickly, regaining composure or trying to* Well, have at it.
*freezes, a little shocked* *contemplates calling Lassiter on that, but thinks better of it* I have a hard time with things I can't be perfect at. *fires once* *flinches at the recoil*
*leans forward on the bench, squinting* Well... I nicked off the target's ear. That's always a good way to piss off a sadistic murderer who wants you dead. *slides back down off the bench*
I like Mr. Nine Millimeter still. Less recoil. *brightens* Hey, you let me hold your gun. You're really protective of your handguns too. *beams* *hads the glock back gingerly* Thanks.
Or a good way to stall the sadistic murderer long enough to let people who can take him down arrive. People like me.
I'm not protective, I'm just...careful. I'd rather not have some idiot waving my gun around willy nilly when he doesn't even know the difference between a .45 and a .357 let alone whether or not the safety's on. That's how accidents happen.
*takes the gun back, barely brushing Shawn's fingers* *holsters it*
You never answered me before, what are you doing here?
You treat your guns like some people treat their pets. *laughs* Without the lame, sadistic fluffy sweaters.
*props self up to sit on the gun bench* Cruising the bullpen, seeing if anyone has a case for me to work on. *shrugs* Nothing to interesting, really, but that one with the zoo theft sounds fun. *swings legs a bit* Some uber-rare exotic bird display touring the nation lost the world's smallest hummingbird, or something. I only got a glance at the whiteboard.
*grumbles* Someone's got to look out for your well being.
You get very attached to something when it's saved your life on more than one occasion.
*looks at Shawn speculatively, files it away*
The zoo theft? You want to walk around some park in ninety degree weather full of kids and lethargic animals just because some handler happened to misplace his prized Cuban Bee Hummingbird? *smirks* Actually, you'll probably fit right in.
*walks up to the second booth, slides on glasses, picks up 9mm* Let's see if I still can... *aims, fires off a round* *hits dead center*
*smiles*
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What are you doing here, Spen-*looks over his shoulder* Did you just hit dead center?
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*drops one hand off the gun, fires three more, only slightly more shaky* You wanna ask, or just lust after my firing skills?
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So, how did you learn to shoot like that?
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Dad and I went camping when I was young, right before I did my whole rebellion thing. Up in the mountains, all by ourselves, and he goes off with his gun to kill food. *gestures* My dad's nuts.
Anyway, I'm by myself in the camp and I hear a gunshot and I completely flip out, and I actually climb a tree to hide in. Dad's not very pleased, so when we get back, he teaches me to fire a gun. *smrik* Mom was so ticked, since it wasn't exactly legal, but... *shrugs*
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*takes a few steps closer, but stops, instead leaning against the booth's wall*
What else did he teach you?
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*blows out breath* I'm not entirely sure. The way I was trained... *rubs brow* He made it into games and taught me things like it was everyday stuff all parents told their kids. I learned how to move silently will playing hide and seek with Gus, actually.
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*hands him his glock*
Try it.
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*slides protective glasses higher on nose* *hesistates, aims* *fires off once* Holy cr- *grips gun tighter, completely missed* Okay, um... That was embarrassing. *coughs* *sets gun down on bench*
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*grabs the gun* *steps up beside him* Your stance is good, just *shifts Shawn's right foot a little* There.
*gives him back the gun* Now, hold the gun firmly with both hands. No, not in a death grip. No, not that loose- *sighs* Here. *stands behind him, adjusting Shawn's hands, lingering momentarily*
*voice a little breathy, whispering right in Shawn's ear* Okay, I know you can aim so *points* just try to at least hit the target. Doesn't matter if it's perfect, just so long as you hit something. *for a moment, doesn't move, feeling the press of Shawn's body, warm and-*
*stands back quickly, regaining composure or trying to* Well, have at it.
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*leans forward on the bench, squinting* Well... I nicked off the target's ear. That's always a good way to piss off a sadistic murderer who wants you dead. *slides back down off the bench*
I like Mr. Nine Millimeter still. Less recoil. *brightens* Hey, you let me hold your gun. You're really protective of your handguns too. *beams* *hads the glock back gingerly* Thanks.
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I'm not protective, I'm just...careful. I'd rather not have some idiot waving my gun around willy nilly when he doesn't even know the difference between a .45 and a .357 let alone whether or not the safety's on. That's how accidents happen.
*takes the gun back, barely brushing Shawn's fingers* *holsters it*
You never answered me before, what are you doing here?
Reply
You treat your guns like some people treat their pets. *laughs* Without the lame, sadistic fluffy sweaters.
*props self up to sit on the gun bench* Cruising the bullpen, seeing if anyone has a case for me to work on. *shrugs* Nothing to interesting, really, but that one with the zoo theft sounds fun. *swings legs a bit* Some uber-rare exotic bird display touring the nation lost the world's smallest hummingbird, or something. I only got a glance at the whiteboard.
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You get very attached to something when it's saved your life on more than one occasion.
*looks at Shawn speculatively, files it away*
The zoo theft? You want to walk around some park in ninety degree weather full of kids and lethargic animals just because some handler happened to misplace his prized Cuban Bee Hummingbird? *smirks* Actually, you'll probably fit right in.
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*notices the speculativeness* *blinks* What?
*shrugs* I like the zoo. Or I imagine I would. *waves hand dismissively* They sound fun.
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*quickly* Nothing.
*surprised* You've-you've never been to the zoo before?
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