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Title: we all know everyone’s life has been hard enough already
Author: redbrunja
Fandom: Blade: Trinity
Pairing: Abigail Whistler/Hannibal King + Zoë
Rating: PG
Summary: Her plan had been to get to New Mexico in as little time as possible. She'd driven it alone before, done it in one stretch with a couple cat naps and coffee stops, but she'd been forced to admit that it wasn't doable when she was traveling with a six year old and Hannibal King. Especially when she was traveling with Hannibal King.
Abby drummed her fingers impatiently on the top of the desk, waiting while the hotel’s front desk clerk continued to check her in at a glacial pace.
In front of her, the clerk’s fingers hovered over the keyboard like she’d never seen a computer before.
“So…” she started, clearly getting ready to verify Abby’s request for the third time.
“One room, two beds,” Abby repeated, turning to check on Hannibal and Zoe.
"Okay," the clerk said, and then asked her another boring, prying, small talk-y question.
Yes, because she was absolutely about to tell a stranger that a vamp hunting cell in New Mexico wanted a second opinion on weird things that were happening in the Gila National Forest, and their suspicion that with the vamps dying out, something else wanted the position of apex predator.
Abby replied monosyllabically, keep her eyes on Hannibal and Zoe.
They were still out in the small, desiccated square of grass in front of the hotel’s lobby, well-illuminated by the parking lot’s lights and playing Zoe’s new favorite game, ‘vampire and hunter.’
That had to be psychologically bad for her, right?
Abby chewed the inside of her cheek, continuing the mental debate. Admittedly, it was training Zoe to go in for the kill; decapitation and/or getting stabbed through the heart would make a lot of different things dead. On the other hand.... well, Hannibal's protracted, dramatic death throes might make Zoe think that it takes a vampire eight minutes to dust. And it just... it had to be contributing to Zoe's mental scarring, didn't it? Although her nightmares were getting better....
When she’d brought this up to King, he’d looked uncharacteristically serious, paused, and then asked, “did you pretend to kill vampires when you were a kid?”
Abby had blushed, crossed her arms, and tried to look as badass as she could.
“Exactly,” she’d answered.
“Exactly,” said King, like he was agreeing with her. “And you turned out great.”
Hannibal had finished his dramatic death scene, ending up sprawled across the picnic table. There was two seconds of stillness, which was impressive on both their parts, considering that dinner had been soda and gummy worms (Abby would have stepped in, except she’d spent the last thirty six hours knocking back oversweetened black coffee, and had no room to talk) before they were back on their feet. Hannibal was chasing Zoe around the grass, "trying" to catch her, letting her twist and slip out of his grip until she pivoted and hurtled herself at him. Then he grabbed her by the waist, twirled her through the air.
Her plan had been to get to New Mexico in as little time as possible. She'd driven it alone before, done it in one stretch with a couple cat naps and coffee stops, but she'd been forced to admit that it wasn't doable when she was traveling with a six year old and Hannibal King. Especially when she was traveling with Hannibal King.
After she announced that they were stopping at a motel, Hannibal had only said ‘I told you so’ four or six times (before she threatened his life if he didn’t stop).
"Allllllmost done," the clerk said.
First thing tomorrow - after Abby went for a run and fed Zoe something with actual nutritional value and took a long shower, so really fourth thing tomorrow, she was making a playlist for dealing with ridiculously incompetent hotel clerks.
Abby forced herself to smile at the woman, her expression all teeth.
The bell over the door rang, and both Abby and the clerk watched King and Zoe come in. Zoe was riding piggy-back, her grip on King’s t-shirt pulling it up far enough that both Abby and the clerk got a glimpse of his abs, the tattoo just above his belt buckle.
Abby ignored the tendrils of heat that curled through her belly.
Zoe yawned and between one step and the next fell asleep, head lolling on King’s shoulder.
"What a sweet little girl you two have," the clerk said, her voice suddenly saccharine. Abby was suddenly reminded of the story of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. By the way that King shifted Zoe so that one hand was free to grab a weapon, she wasn't alone.
Both she and King were possibly completely paranoid. On the plus side, Abby knew that she wasn't going to get any arguments about moving a dresser or table across the door tonight.
"She's darling, all right," King said agreeably.
The clerk looked him up and down. Abby hoped her sudden desire to slam the clerk's face into the keyboard she was almost incapable of using didn't show on her face.
"And what a cute husband you have," the clerk continued with a wink in Abby's direction.
Hannibal took a breath, clearly preparing to launch into some over-complicated cover story that probably involved long lost siblings and a traveling circus.
"I am the luckiest of women," Abby said, before he could say anything. It was worryingly easy to sound adoring.
She crisply plucked the keycards out of the clerk’s fingers, aware that she was going to be getting teased about that last comment until the death of the universe. She told herself that anything was worth it, to finally get out of this lobby and up to their room, and that was the only reason she'd played along.
She patted King's cheek affectionately, didn't let her fingers linger. "Come on," she said.
King closed his mouth carefully and followed her up to their hotel room.
~~~~
AN: FYI, the clerk totally screwed up checking Abby in, and gave them a room with only one bed. Abby and Hannibal ended up sleeping on either side of Zoe with their weapons on the bedside tables. And the dresser blocking the door.
Author: redbrunja
Fandom: Blade: Trinity
Pairing: Abigail Whistler/Hannibal King + Zoë
Rating: PG
Summary: Her plan had been to get to New Mexico in as little time as possible. She'd driven it alone before, done it in one stretch with a couple cat naps and coffee stops, but she'd been forced to admit that it wasn't doable when she was traveling with a six year old and Hannibal King. Especially when she was traveling with Hannibal King.
Abby drummed her fingers impatiently on the top of the desk, waiting while the hotel’s front desk clerk continued to check her in at a glacial pace.
In front of her, the clerk’s fingers hovered over the keyboard like she’d never seen a computer before.
“So…” she started, clearly getting ready to verify Abby’s request for the third time.
“One room, two beds,” Abby repeated, turning to check on Hannibal and Zoe.
"Okay," the clerk said, and then asked her another boring, prying, small talk-y question.
Yes, because she was absolutely about to tell a stranger that a vamp hunting cell in New Mexico wanted a second opinion on weird things that were happening in the Gila National Forest, and their suspicion that with the vamps dying out, something else wanted the position of apex predator.
Abby replied monosyllabically, keep her eyes on Hannibal and Zoe.
They were still out in the small, desiccated square of grass in front of the hotel’s lobby, well-illuminated by the parking lot’s lights and playing Zoe’s new favorite game, ‘vampire and hunter.’
That had to be psychologically bad for her, right?
Abby chewed the inside of her cheek, continuing the mental debate. Admittedly, it was training Zoe to go in for the kill; decapitation and/or getting stabbed through the heart would make a lot of different things dead. On the other hand.... well, Hannibal's protracted, dramatic death throes might make Zoe think that it takes a vampire eight minutes to dust. And it just... it had to be contributing to Zoe's mental scarring, didn't it? Although her nightmares were getting better....
When she’d brought this up to King, he’d looked uncharacteristically serious, paused, and then asked, “did you pretend to kill vampires when you were a kid?”
Abby had blushed, crossed her arms, and tried to look as badass as she could.
“Exactly,” she’d answered.
“Exactly,” said King, like he was agreeing with her. “And you turned out great.”
Hannibal had finished his dramatic death scene, ending up sprawled across the picnic table. There was two seconds of stillness, which was impressive on both their parts, considering that dinner had been soda and gummy worms (Abby would have stepped in, except she’d spent the last thirty six hours knocking back oversweetened black coffee, and had no room to talk) before they were back on their feet. Hannibal was chasing Zoe around the grass, "trying" to catch her, letting her twist and slip out of his grip until she pivoted and hurtled herself at him. Then he grabbed her by the waist, twirled her through the air.
Her plan had been to get to New Mexico in as little time as possible. She'd driven it alone before, done it in one stretch with a couple cat naps and coffee stops, but she'd been forced to admit that it wasn't doable when she was traveling with a six year old and Hannibal King. Especially when she was traveling with Hannibal King.
After she announced that they were stopping at a motel, Hannibal had only said ‘I told you so’ four or six times (before she threatened his life if he didn’t stop).
"Allllllmost done," the clerk said.
First thing tomorrow - after Abby went for a run and fed Zoe something with actual nutritional value and took a long shower, so really fourth thing tomorrow, she was making a playlist for dealing with ridiculously incompetent hotel clerks.
Abby forced herself to smile at the woman, her expression all teeth.
The bell over the door rang, and both Abby and the clerk watched King and Zoe come in. Zoe was riding piggy-back, her grip on King’s t-shirt pulling it up far enough that both Abby and the clerk got a glimpse of his abs, the tattoo just above his belt buckle.
Abby ignored the tendrils of heat that curled through her belly.
Zoe yawned and between one step and the next fell asleep, head lolling on King’s shoulder.
"What a sweet little girl you two have," the clerk said, her voice suddenly saccharine. Abby was suddenly reminded of the story of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. By the way that King shifted Zoe so that one hand was free to grab a weapon, she wasn't alone.
Both she and King were possibly completely paranoid. On the plus side, Abby knew that she wasn't going to get any arguments about moving a dresser or table across the door tonight.
"She's darling, all right," King said agreeably.
The clerk looked him up and down. Abby hoped her sudden desire to slam the clerk's face into the keyboard she was almost incapable of using didn't show on her face.
"And what a cute husband you have," the clerk continued with a wink in Abby's direction.
Hannibal took a breath, clearly preparing to launch into some over-complicated cover story that probably involved long lost siblings and a traveling circus.
"I am the luckiest of women," Abby said, before he could say anything. It was worryingly easy to sound adoring.
She crisply plucked the keycards out of the clerk’s fingers, aware that she was going to be getting teased about that last comment until the death of the universe. She told herself that anything was worth it, to finally get out of this lobby and up to their room, and that was the only reason she'd played along.
She patted King's cheek affectionately, didn't let her fingers linger. "Come on," she said.
King closed his mouth carefully and followed her up to their hotel room.
~~~~
AN: FYI, the clerk totally screwed up checking Abby in, and gave them a room with only one bed. Abby and Hannibal ended up sleeping on either side of Zoe with their weapons on the bedside tables. And the dresser blocking the door.
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