[ Reckless, death wish, dangerous to himself and others. The cop's eyes seem to glaze over, and Ray knew it, this was about the Mountie, and he knows just how possessive it's possible to get, how you'd do anything, risk life and limb, if it meant undoing some wrong that had been meted out on Fraser. There's no restraining that, no controlling it, and he watched Chicago's pale lips work down into a white line, his mouth clamped shut to stop himself from laughing or yelling or roaring, those eyes narrowing despite his thin attempt at pretense.
He's coming over the table, there's no doubt about it.
The cop doesn't even count to three. All of a sudden he's all supernatural energy, rush of adrenaline sending him flying over the table with the kind of imprecision that none the less gets him exactly where he wants to be. The tray of drinks goes crashing to the ground. It hits, thank you gravity, at the same moment that Armando and Ray hit the ground on the other side, with a violent crash, and speaking of violent crashes, he was going to be feeling the impact from the fall in his back for weeks. This guy wasn't heavy, or even big, but he was as tall as Vecchio was, and he'd sprang across the table with enough pure force to knock the air out of him.
There's a fist raised up over his head, the threat of violence, but Armando was still the vision of calm despite all of that. This guy might be promising to visit a whole lot of violence on him, but he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and dismissing Armando's men was a mistake.
He kept one hand knotted in Kowalski's tie and suit jacket, and raised his free hand toward his men to hold them back. They'd all drawn their guns, the hum seemed to have dropped into utter, horrified silence in the casino around them, nobody quite sure what to do, or who had booked this guy his ticket on the Crazy Express.
Underneath his attacker, he stayed calm. He'd faced down scarier people than this. He was more afraid for the cop than himself. ]
You really ought to have drawn your ankle gun first. You might have gotten out of here if you'd taken me hostage. I'm afraid now if you reach for it, Mikey is gonna put a hole in you. He's not super smart, you see. He can shoot straight, but he doesn't appreciate how hard it is to get brains out of silk.
[ Armando had waved him off, but in the long term that was only a partial solution. If the cop reached for his own gun or the one tucked inside Ray's suit jacket, the idiot might panic and fire anyway, nevermind that it was a whole mess to clear up on the casino's record. The Iguanas didn't like it when people got shot on their property; they'd like it less to find out it was a cop. ]
Now here's what's gonna happen if you want to live to see your friend again. You're gonna get up, very slowly, with your hands crossed behind your head. You try anything else, you hit me, and it's over for both of you.
[ He's still alive you fucking idiot, was what he was saying. The rest of it...well, the rest of it was probably a bluff. ]
no subject
He's coming over the table, there's no doubt about it.
The cop doesn't even count to three. All of a sudden he's all supernatural energy, rush of adrenaline sending him flying over the table with the kind of imprecision that none the less gets him exactly where he wants to be. The tray of drinks goes crashing to the ground. It hits, thank you gravity, at the same moment that Armando and Ray hit the ground on the other side, with a violent crash, and speaking of violent crashes, he was going to be feeling the impact from the fall in his back for weeks. This guy wasn't heavy, or even big, but he was as tall as Vecchio was, and he'd sprang across the table with enough pure force to knock the air out of him.
There's a fist raised up over his head, the threat of violence, but Armando was still the vision of calm despite all of that. This guy might be promising to visit a whole lot of violence on him, but he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and dismissing Armando's men was a mistake.
He kept one hand knotted in Kowalski's tie and suit jacket, and raised his free hand toward his men to hold them back. They'd all drawn their guns, the hum seemed to have dropped into utter, horrified silence in the casino around them, nobody quite sure what to do, or who had booked this guy his ticket on the Crazy Express.
Underneath his attacker, he stayed calm. He'd faced down scarier people than this. He was more afraid for the cop than himself. ]
You really ought to have drawn your ankle gun first. You might have gotten out of here if you'd taken me hostage. I'm afraid now if you reach for it, Mikey is gonna put a hole in you. He's not super smart, you see. He can shoot straight, but he doesn't appreciate how hard it is to get brains out of silk.
[ Armando had waved him off, but in the long term that was only a partial solution. If the cop reached for his own gun or the one tucked inside Ray's suit jacket, the idiot might panic and fire anyway, nevermind that it was a whole mess to clear up on the casino's record. The Iguanas didn't like it when people got shot on their property; they'd like it less to find out it was a cop. ]
Now here's what's gonna happen if you want to live to see your friend again. You're gonna get up, very slowly, with your hands crossed behind your head. You try anything else, you hit me, and it's over for both of you.
[ He's still alive you fucking idiot, was what he was saying. The rest of it...well, the rest of it was probably a bluff. ]