OOM: Sable's office

[die_tician]

Sable's breathtaking view is clouded by fog today - although as high up as this office is, the misty soup would be more accurately classified as clouds. The stormy skies mirror his mood as he stalks around the office, muttering dictation into a wafer-thin recorder.

"...Red Cross... take their relief fund and shove... see that the FDA finds...check with White about contaminants..."

At his receptionist's tentative knock on the door, he snarls, looking much less the unflappable businessman for just a split second. Looking much less human, for that matter.

"When I said 'no interruptions,' Chase, I meant--" he begins, and breaks off as the door opens.

"...I meant, unless you're in the mood for a fight."

Chase looks briefly at each of them and backs out, closing the door tightly behind him.

Comments

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

Her heels click across the floor as she moves deeper into his large, sparse office. It's --of course-- immaculate, so when she drops her briefcase and coat haphazardly onto the floor, the room suddenly seems a mess.

No hug, no kiss, she just goes straight for the liquor.

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

When Red is stomping around in her heels that way, Sable's found it is generally not a good idea to draw attention to oneself, anyhow. Not that he's exactly in the mood for attention.

He tucks the recorder silently into an inside pocket, and watches with detatched interest as she ransacks the cabinet by the desk.

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

She rifles through his cabinet, looking for something she isn't finding. She stops moving.

"Why is all the rum gone?"

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

Eyebrow.

"There's a logical answer to that, I believe, if you think about it. Because you drank it. I don't send my assistants to the store every day, you know - they always insist on coming back with non-approved food items."

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

Turning on her heel, she stares at him for a long minute.

"Vodka will do." A turn back around and she pours two glasses before walking over and handing one to Raven. She sits in his chair.

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

He stares into the glass darkly for a moment, but doesn't drink.

"Sales are down," he says. His voice is flat, which can usually be interpreted as borderline furious.

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

Her response is: "George has been thinking." This means trouble. For everyone.

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

He makes a choked noise and drinks, twisting his face into a grimace of distaste.

"I'm afraid to ask, really."

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

"I'm thinking of quitting," she informs him. "I miss being on the front lines." A longing sigh.

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

"Really. You don't think the infighting where you are is as interesting? I didn't think most of them went for subtlety behind the podium."

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

"I mean, it is nice. They backstab, lie, cheat, steal--it's wonderful. But... they do it on their own. Do you know how long I've been trying to get that idiot to nuke something? Cheney always steps in. Damn him." A pause. "Though, he did shoot a man in the face. Gotta respect that."

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

"He claimed it was an accident," he points out. "No real balls at all, if you ask me." He crosses to the desk slowly, and perches on the edge, still staring into the glass.

"As for the nukes, well. It's only a matter of time."

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

Her hand rests on her chin. "I hate waiting." She swirls her drink and takes a sip.

She looks as if she suddenly just remembered something. "Where is Frannie?"

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

"I took her off reception," he shrugs.

"She was looking a little gaunt. It's really very attractive on her, but I can't have her dying while sales are in their current state. And that fiasco with the picture of the chicken." He shudders almost imperceptably and downs the rest of the vodka.

"She's back in accounting for a bit, cooking the books."

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

"You know you would have gone under by now if it wasn't for her." She smiles and crosses her legs.

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

"Let's hope it's quite a few more years before we have to find out," he says.

"She did have some good ideas on this, though. Promotions, advertising, that sort of thing."

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

"She always had a good eye. I told you I liked her." Another sip.

"Maybe I'll resign."

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

"Resign?"

He looks skeptical, which mutates quickly into a smirk.

"That sounds far too close to 'retreat' for you, I think."

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

She glares. "Watch it," she warns.

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

The smirk expands very slightly.

"I'm just interested to see how you'll prove me wrong."

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

"Fine. Maybe I'll just fake my own death." Her empty glass is set down on the table.

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

He considers this carefully, then nods.

"Violently, I'm sure. Put people off their dinners."

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

She grins. "Two birds with one stone, huh?"

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

"Isn't it usually?" he says, returning the grin.

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

Standing, she walks over to him and places her hand softly on his chest. "Always," she says with a smile and a small kiss on the lips, her smooth face brushing against the gruffness of his goatee.

She playfully adds, "Until you fuck it up."

[die-tician.livejournal.com]

It's almost more difficult to argue with Red in the rare, rare moments when she's being gentle. But they never last long.

He slides his hands around her waist and tugs slightly, still smiling.

"I do like the way you look in camoflage gear. So I might be willing to temporarily overlook that comment."

[redhorserider.livejournal.com]

"You would," she said, playfully biting his lip. "Pansy."

She looked over to see if the door was locked, but honestly, she didn't care.

"Have we broken your desk in yet?" She asks with a devious grin.