BPRD - SECTION 51

[walking_napalm]

Liz is curled up against Hellboy's side, her head on his shoulder and one arm tossed lazily across his chest. The lights are low; the cats are quiet, which means they're hiding, sleeping, causing mischief somewhere, or a combination of all of the above.

She's warm, she's comfortable under the blankets, she's half-asleep, and she's tracing the runes on his opposite arm with one absent finger. "Good movie."

Comments

[walking_napalm]

"...Yeah," Liz says softly, and her shoulders have sagged a little. "I really want to do this. I don't have a choice in doing this. If there's a chance, any chance, that I could get better control of it, that I wouldn't hurt anybody ever again -- I have to try."

The body count on her conscience is already high enough.

She hesitates a second -- and then she reaches out and touches his elbow, gently. "It's not like I'm trusting him blindly, here. I'm watching him."

[bprd_agent_red]

He turns his head to look at her again at the touch and nods slowly.

"I know you do. Father would've said the same."

And it's that thought that makes him give in and the relenting is pretty clear on his features.

"I'll watch him too." He offers.

[walking_napalm]

She smiles, small but genuine. "Okay." She gets up on her knees, hand on his shoulder for balance, and kisses his cheek; she rests her forehead against the side of his, and stays there. "Just -- maybe not during class-time, huh?"

On the one hand, she'd feel better with Red there; but on the other, it's her demon to struggle with, and while she loves Hellboy to death -- he'd be one hell of a distraction.

Mostly because it has already been proven that he and her intended instructor don't get along in the least.

[bprd_agent_red]

The frown returns and he looks at her from the corner of his eyes.

"You don't want me there?" It sure sounds like that's what she's saying.

[walking_napalm]

"It's not that I don't want you there; trust me," she says, fervently. "It's that--" She leans back a little bit. "Okay, say you go. You and the kid don't like each other, he says something, maybe you say something, he insults you, and suddenly, look at that. I've lit him on fire."

[bprd_agent_red]

She's got a point. Which annoys him because it's a good enough point he can't really make an argument against it.

So instead he makes a sarcastic, but relenting, remark.

"I wouldn't mind if you lit him on fire."

[walking_napalm]

"He might. And I would," she says, squeezing his shoulder gently.

"Unless he was being a real ass."

[bprd_agent_red]

"I'm sure if you give him some time he'll do it."

He sighs and gives a reluctant smile.

"You sure about this?"

[walking_napalm]

She pretends to consider it.

Not without humor: "Mmm. Not really."

She smiles back at him, faint and wry and quietly determined; more of a quirk of her lips than a smile, but still stubborn as hell. "Got to try, Red."

[bprd_agent_red]

"I know you do." He nods, reaching his hand up to trail down her cheek.

"Let me know how it goes, all right?"

[walking_napalm]

Liz has always had a problem with maintaining constant eye contact (even if she's slowly getting better at it). It's never been like that with Red; it's never been been even the slightest bit difficult. She can look up, meet those gold eyes, and hold them -- no twitches of discomfort, no glancing away. For as long as she wants.

"All right," she says, soft but no less strong for it. She leans into his hand.