[ She is, in the littlest of ways, but it took a significant amount to ruffle her after so many years. The drastic cases— injured children, the atrocities man could visit on another, those tortured and maimed, or simply the hopelessness that sometimes settled in no matter how much she's done for someone. When they give up on life because it wouldn't ever be the same, with a cybernetic arm or leg, or knowing they have artificial organs within them. Mass slaughter. Those were the times she had to take a few moments to herself when all was said and done, sit somewhere quiet (and yes, private) and drag her fingers through her hair and just brace the nape of her neck as if she could hold herself upright, braced against her knees. Wind herself back up and march back in like a toy soldier. It wasn't often, but sometimes life still had a way of wedging into the finest hairline fractures.
His exasperation and further sarcasm is enough to make her laugh, soft though it may be under her breath— she knows better, of course, or they wouldn't have been seeing each other near every day for the last six months. Somewhere along the way their schedules would have shifted, they'd see less and less of each other, until they'd become acquaintances passing each other in the halls once every blue moon. No, they valued each other's company, that much was clear, and she's noticed the gradual degrees he's relaxed in her presence as time went on. Recognizes his trust in her when he gives himself over to her direction so easily, allows her behind him in a vulnerable position when he's been ground down to the bone (though she'd never say he'd be out of fight, because she has a hard time believing someone like Snake could ever fail to get back to his feet). It's an amusement that says I know, reaffirming her gentle ribbing. She hasn't often seen Snake interacting with others, but she's come to recognize that it is vastly different from how he is in her presence the few times she has seen him around others, even at a distance. When it's just her and conversation comes easier, he reveals a little more, he doesn't mind her nearly as sharply as he would a stranger in his vicinity. It's trust, not neglect. And that is difficult for most soldiers to come by without explicitly being assigned someone to their unit, knowing they're your rank and capability, that they're fighting on your side and someone else has made the executive decision to fill the hole in your team. ]
I did say 'at least'. I could assign you overnight observation in case of concussion and hog you all to myself if I really wanted to abuse my power.
[ The famous doctor's orders. Practiced hands make quick work before she's settling into the massage, and that is significantly more indulgent. Gentle so as not to hurt him, steady. This, too, is well-practiced— massages come part and parcel with cybernetics and working with amputations, the resultant physical therapy. He can say what he will, but the moment his eyes close and she feels him begin to unwind beneath her touch contradicts that spectacularly and he can likely hear the smile she wears in her reply. ]
Consider it my thanks. [ For many things, really. His friendship. The trust he offers her. His faith in her to do well by him. And if he wanted to be absolutely clinical about it: ] For getting me here, if nothing else. You've fought hard and we're all here, safe, and you did what you could for anyone who may not have to ensure they're still accounted for. When I'm done here, you need to rest. You might as well begin winding down in preparation for it, or you'll be lying there awake for hours.
[ Her touch smooths up the sides of his neck now, swirling carefully up his nape, tracing the line of vertebrae to his hairline. Then the heels of her hands knead in soft, nails scritching in his hair to steady the motion. She'll alternate until he's malleable, worked as loose as possible. ]
no subject
His exasperation and further sarcasm is enough to make her laugh, soft though it may be under her breath— she knows better, of course, or they wouldn't have been seeing each other near every day for the last six months. Somewhere along the way their schedules would have shifted, they'd see less and less of each other, until they'd become acquaintances passing each other in the halls once every blue moon. No, they valued each other's company, that much was clear, and she's noticed the gradual degrees he's relaxed in her presence as time went on. Recognizes his trust in her when he gives himself over to her direction so easily, allows her behind him in a vulnerable position when he's been ground down to the bone (though she'd never say he'd be out of fight, because she has a hard time believing someone like Snake could ever fail to get back to his feet). It's an amusement that says I know, reaffirming her gentle ribbing. She hasn't often seen Snake interacting with others, but she's come to recognize that it is vastly different from how he is in her presence the few times she has seen him around others, even at a distance. When it's just her and conversation comes easier, he reveals a little more, he doesn't mind her nearly as sharply as he would a stranger in his vicinity. It's trust, not neglect. And that is difficult for most soldiers to come by without explicitly being assigned someone to their unit, knowing they're your rank and capability, that they're fighting on your side and someone else has made the executive decision to fill the hole in your team. ]
I did say 'at least'. I could assign you overnight observation in case of concussion and hog you all to myself if I really wanted to abuse my power.
[ The famous doctor's orders. Practiced hands make quick work before she's settling into the massage, and that is significantly more indulgent. Gentle so as not to hurt him, steady. This, too, is well-practiced— massages come part and parcel with cybernetics and working with amputations, the resultant physical therapy. He can say what he will, but the moment his eyes close and she feels him begin to unwind beneath her touch contradicts that spectacularly and he can likely hear the smile she wears in her reply. ]
Consider it my thanks. [ For many things, really. His friendship. The trust he offers her. His faith in her to do well by him. And if he wanted to be absolutely clinical about it: ] For getting me here, if nothing else. You've fought hard and we're all here, safe, and you did what you could for anyone who may not have to ensure they're still accounted for. When I'm done here, you need to rest. You might as well begin winding down in preparation for it, or you'll be lying there awake for hours.
[ Her touch smooths up the sides of his neck now, swirling carefully up his nape, tracing the line of vertebrae to his hairline. Then the heels of her hands knead in soft, nails scritching in his hair to steady the motion. She'll alternate until he's malleable, worked as loose as possible. ]