[ it's one of the rarer occasions when marta returns to their shabby little apartment later than kovacs, her arrival signaled by the quiet click of the door followed by a brief but heavy sigh — as is customary of her after a particularly long day. while nothing will ever compare to her days of med-school residencies, some days juggling the eccentric characters that wander the sixth circle get pretty damn close.
she's shrugging off her coat when she catches movement out of the corner of her eyes. the weariness slides off of her like oil upon seeing kovacs there, folded awkwardly on the only armchair in the apartment, a beacon of warmth and home she doesn't hesitate to float towards like a tired moth to its welcoming flame.
she drops a kiss to his brow but can't quite bring herself to stoop down and hug him after just spending hours hunched over a table. besides, she'd been given very clear instructions to make a delivery the instant she saw him, and marta is nothing if not dutiful. ]
For you. [ from her pocket she withdraws a wrapped package — one of those thin, wafer-like bars meant to imitate what chocolate used to be. a not unexpensive gift, especially for something meant to be... casual. ] Anita says hello.
[ marta is also nothing if not a little cheeky, because no amount of gentle dissuading the other young woman would get her to stop trying to get to know "that handsome broody man who makes deliveries" better. ]
[ kovacs has always taught himself not to get used to routines. as an envoy, circumstances are constantly shifting and evolving, never permitting you to get too comfortable, that adaptation is always essential. it's why he curses quietly to himself when he steps into that apartment with the expectation of seeing a particular face already on the other side. he'd been eager to get back, addicted to the relief that comes when he enters a room with her in it, like he's somehow found himself a new drug in his time here.
no routines, he reminds himself, even if he knows he'll forget about his warning all over again the moment she finally makes it back.
because that's precisely what happens when she does, head lifting with a quiet delight in eyes that do well to remain neutral in his demeanor, despite the giddy flip in his belly in seeing her step inside, unharmed and still safe.
the satisfaction of seeing her is what makes him need to blink twice when she suddenly pulls out that small package, taking a moment to piece what she's talking about, between the gift and anita. of course, it doesn't take being an envoy to piece two and two together, that he can vaguely recall the woman who seems to shift her entire posture whenever he shows up with a new supply, likely caught up in the physical appeal of elias ryker's body.
but the detail that interests him a lot more is the tone from marta that comes with it, his lips quirking a bit with intrigue at her reaction. ] Oh, really? [ his eyes don't even look at the chocolate, a hand curving against her hip to urge her closer between his parted legs. ] Real sweet of you to pass that message along.
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( mission: the fox and the hare )
she's shrugging off her coat when she catches movement out of the corner of her eyes. the weariness slides off of her like oil upon seeing kovacs there, folded awkwardly on the only armchair in the apartment, a beacon of warmth and home she doesn't hesitate to float towards like a tired moth to its welcoming flame.
she drops a kiss to his brow but can't quite bring herself to stoop down and hug him after just spending hours hunched over a table. besides, she'd been given very clear instructions to make a delivery the instant she saw him, and marta is nothing if not dutiful. ]
For you. [ from her pocket she withdraws a wrapped package — one of those thin, wafer-like bars meant to imitate what chocolate used to be. a not unexpensive gift, especially for something meant to be... casual. ] Anita says hello.
[ marta is also nothing if not a little cheeky, because no amount of gentle dissuading the other young woman would get her to stop trying to get to know "that handsome broody man who makes deliveries" better. ]
no subject
no routines, he reminds himself, even if he knows he'll forget about his warning all over again the moment she finally makes it back.
because that's precisely what happens when she does, head lifting with a quiet delight in eyes that do well to remain neutral in his demeanor, despite the giddy flip in his belly in seeing her step inside, unharmed and still safe.
the satisfaction of seeing her is what makes him need to blink twice when she suddenly pulls out that small package, taking a moment to piece what she's talking about, between the gift and anita. of course, it doesn't take being an envoy to piece two and two together, that he can vaguely recall the woman who seems to shift her entire posture whenever he shows up with a new supply, likely caught up in the physical appeal of elias ryker's body.
but the detail that interests him a lot more is the tone from marta that comes with it, his lips quirking a bit with intrigue at her reaction. ] Oh, really? [ his eyes don't even look at the chocolate, a hand curving against her hip to urge her closer between his parted legs. ] Real sweet of you to pass that message along.