multiversallogs | Today the guns are silent.

Who: Martha Snape-Jones and Severus Snape. [Closed. Complete.]
What: A log of badassery, daleks and then horrors.
Where: Sobek Croix
When: Now.
Notes: None that I can think of.
Warnings:

Well, this week was certainly familiar. Martha Jones had gone firmly into companion mode as soon as the Hellsing shut down had happened. Everything was triage now, and treating as many people as Martha possibly could. It was easier to be in crisis medical mode. There was something familiar about it, like the world ending and the only thing that mattered was getting this person through this night, and perhaps the next. As many as they needed to until the world once more righted itself. After all, there were gods here, how could they keep allowing this to go on? Perhaps she really didn't want to know.

The portkey had taken care of the angel, thank goodness, because the last thing that Martha had been willing to do was to stay locked up inside of their home when this was going on. There was something inside of her that simply wouldn't allow her to do that. Perhaps it had been the angel outside her front door, but Martha was reminded of how many things there were from her world that people didn't have a point of reference too. And there were some things that a person needed one for and Martha's conversation with Steph had made that clear.

Familiar too was the way Martha was garbed. 'I am not a solider' solider outfit, plain, black with her larger on the inside backpack, filled with food and medical supplies. If she had lost some weight (to starving) and was minus a few tattoos, Martha Jones could have been a past version of herself.

Each step she took was purposeful, and there was no hesitation in it. Monsters were around them, and Martha didn't flinch. At least not yet. No, there would be time for flinching, but far away there was a sound so soft that Martha almost thought was a memory. Ex-term-in-ate.

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The dalek twisted it's weapons array in her direction, and Martha didn't blink. All it would take was that and this thing would shoot her and here she didn't have the means to go back in time or have the death toll waiting like a net to catch her.

"I'm giving you a choice, dalek." Martha quickly said once more in that same authoritative voice. "You've only got this one. Don't waste it." Genuine regret slipped into her tone, and Martha hoped that the dalek wouldn't do anything stupid.

But then it turned it's weapon towards Severus, and Martha was not alright with that. Doing that was cause for her to not give the dalek a chance anymore than she already had and quickly Martha fired a bullet point blank and into the dalek's eye stalk. Jumping back to avoid the spinning of it's plunger, she noticed the removed casing of the shell and fired into it there.

He advanced on the - dalek, that's what she was calling it - when it turned its weapons toward her. There was little he could do save distract it - and distract it, he did, apparently.

Several things happened at once: he readied himself to leap out of the way. The thing before him readied itself to fire. And Martha - did fire, from immediately beside it.

It was reckless and dangerous - he glared at her even as she fired on it again. The reaction from the dalek - an obvious powering down - gave him the time he needed to intervene. Suddenly, the emotions he'd been repressing came to the forefront. His hand went tight around her upper arm, as though he meant to shake her.

"Stupid - reckless - damn it, Martha, you might have been killed! What were you thinking?" Protecting him, of course. That's what she'd been thinking. He was useless against the monsters of her world, and she had just saved him. Twice.

Martha let out a breath when the dalek powered down, and she didn't even know if that was a good sign or a bad one. The dalek's weapon and plunger were both turned downward, and that was good enough for her at the moment.

She still had the gun if there was the return of the blue light to the eyestalk.

Her brow pulled up when he gripped her like that, and Martha frowned at him; if he'd shaken her, it would have been a fight like the two of them had never seen. Thankfully he didn't, and Martha watched him for a moment.

"If I hadn't, you would have been killed." Simply spoken, and entirely truthful. "And we got lucky, if this was a regenerated dalek, it would have killed you."

He looked apoplectic at her answer, his mouth set in a thin, furious line. His hand didn't clench at her arm, but his knuckles were turning white from the grip he had on his wand.

The desire was there to hex her for being so foolhardy...or simply because she'd given him a bad scare, though he would never admit to that. Of course, it was likely that she was aware of it anyway - one of those unspoken things between them, which kept her from slapping him in the same way it prevented him from harming her.

With a soft, disgusted noise, he let go of her and backed of apace, then gestured sharply at the gun with his wandhand (and therefore, his wand.) "Where did you get that?"

Edited 2012-03-11 01:04 (UTC)

Martha was aware of how he responded when she scared him like that. She knew how it had been when she'd been in danger aboard the Barge and there'd been at least something to bring her back, how each time she'd died it'd been like something between his ribs.

Here there was no death toll; just silence and going on without her.

Martha frowned at him even harder when there was that noise, and she moved back towards her backpack, shoving the gun inside of it before she started to redo the straps again. "When you demanded that I get one when we first got here." Bella, she meant. "I got it from Hellsing."

As she turned, so did he. He cast a glance around, the feeling of heightened awareness (missing something, he was missing something) still there beneath the anger which lay in the wake of his panic.

But he did stop and glance back at her with a calculating expression now. Hadn't she refused a firearm when he made that demand? There was no change in his attitude, but something about his entire demeanor suggested he wasn't quite as angry as he had been a moment before. A cessation of hostilities, so to speak.

"For a woman who eschews the use of firearms, you're remarkably competent with one." It...might have been a compliment, or he might simply have decided to take one last dig at her for frightening him.

"Just because I don't want to use one doesn't mean I can't. I was trained by
UNIT, Sev, and I was shown how to use one just in case." Martha herself wasn't sure which side the comment fell on, and she decided she'd treat it as neither and just explain.

Shrugging into her backpack, Martha looked around once more. His sense of worry was starting to be contagious, and the two of them were close enough to know the signs for if something was bothering him.

Other than the obvious, of course.

Taking a deep breath, Martha looked over to the dalek again, and she offered him a smile; ceasing hostility on her behalf as well.

"No need to explain," he replied silkily. "I wouldn't dream of revealing the truth of Saint Martha's capabilities."

If he couldn't lash out at her, he would do his level best to annoy her. Of course, 'Saint Martha' from him sounded almost like a pet name - and when she smiled, that might have been a faint smirk in return. Almost forgiven.

For saving his life and all.

He turned away again with a last disdainful glance at the dalek; something was going on, a tussle some distance away, and it distracted him from the conversation. Worse, it distracted him from Martha.

"Oh ho ho," Martha mock-chuckled in response to the comment about Saint Martha. "Look who thinks he's being rather clever." She was teasing him back, especially in response to that smirk. Knowing when she was almost forgiven, Martha decided to tease him back, not noticing the angel who was on the field of vision.

"You know, husband of mine," she said when he looked around. "You're quite lucky that I love you. If I didn't--" But what she might have done if she didn't love him was lost, as one of her breaths was taken here and now, and the next was taken back on the Barge.

The only sound was her bag hitting the ground in front of an angel.

Today the guns are silent.

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