[Witches' Horses] Chevalier de Grammont
Title: like a bad credit chip
'Verse/characters: le Chevalier de Grammont; Martin, yet another Arkady, Sinclair
Prompt: 73A "friends of the heart"
Word Count: 279
Notes: This is between drawing lines and introduction. Prompted by a poll response.
There was a familiar sort of worry hanging in the air; not the kind that boded blood on the floor or workspaces closed for lack of funds, but worry nonetheless. He caught himself considering options, ticking them off in his head like a pre-flight checklist as he discarded them, and made himself stop thinking about it.
There was a new horse in the bay, and he paused for a second to admire her. Full of bold, graceful lines, under the scarring--someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make her look older and uglier than she was, and he grinned to see it. He loved these kinds of jobs.
"The new arrival's a pretty thing," he remarked when he stuck his head in the office.
"Glad to hear it," Arkady said, not looking up from the sheaf of flimsies on his desk, "She's your next project. Captain says he needs a set of guns."
" . . Really."
Arkady glanced up. "Last time he was in here, Tanith threatened to feed him into the converter. I'm not going to--"
"Oh." He grinned. "You might have said it was Sinclair."
Arkady gave him a sour look. He grinned wider in response, and wandered back out of the office, whistling.
Sinclair was lounging in one of the dismantled saddles in the parts bay, to all appearances dozing, but the bay was completely empty aside from them.
"You're late," Martin informed him.
"Am I?" Sinclair replied lazily, opening his eye.
"Indeed. Most bad credit chips turn up far more often than you do. Now, tell me about what you want to have me do to that lovely girl sitting in my bay."
Sinclair grinned.
'Verse/characters: le Chevalier de Grammont; Martin, yet another Arkady, Sinclair
Prompt: 73A "friends of the heart"
Word Count: 279
Notes: This is between drawing lines and introduction. Prompted by a poll response.
There was a familiar sort of worry hanging in the air; not the kind that boded blood on the floor or workspaces closed for lack of funds, but worry nonetheless. He caught himself considering options, ticking them off in his head like a pre-flight checklist as he discarded them, and made himself stop thinking about it.
There was a new horse in the bay, and he paused for a second to admire her. Full of bold, graceful lines, under the scarring--someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make her look older and uglier than she was, and he grinned to see it. He loved these kinds of jobs.
"The new arrival's a pretty thing," he remarked when he stuck his head in the office.
"Glad to hear it," Arkady said, not looking up from the sheaf of flimsies on his desk, "She's your next project. Captain says he needs a set of guns."
" . . Really."
Arkady glanced up. "Last time he was in here, Tanith threatened to feed him into the converter. I'm not going to--"
"Oh." He grinned. "You might have said it was Sinclair."
Arkady gave him a sour look. He grinned wider in response, and wandered back out of the office, whistling.
Sinclair was lounging in one of the dismantled saddles in the parts bay, to all appearances dozing, but the bay was completely empty aside from them.
"You're late," Martin informed him.
"Am I?" Sinclair replied lazily, opening his eye.
"Indeed. Most bad credit chips turn up far more often than you do. Now, tell me about what you want to have me do to that lovely girl sitting in my bay."
Sinclair grinned.