[It’s an old habit, really; emphasis, explanation, distraction when needs must. But in this case, under her ever watchful eye, Rip begins to wonder if he’s not being tested. Perhaps the whole mess with the key (just one attempt more!) has wrecked her faith in his ability to handle his liquor.
Or at least, the amount he’s likely to have consumed over the past two days. So it’s not an entirely unfair concern, even if Rip’s still firmly sure it’s unwarranted. Mostly.
But running! Oh, does that throw a spanner in the works. A brisk walk would be fine enough, and no doubt there’d be some darting about required once the infamous Ratty was in sight. But to break into that faster pace when they still have stairs to climb down, twists and turns to make in order to reach the basement—
So her concern might be slightly more founded than Rip would care to admit. He’s absolutely certain, after all, that a sudden surge of sickness would be decidedly unsexy.
Yet the trap has long been set. Any hesitance now would only open the door further to Peggy to needle him over his reaction to the whole affair, so he hits that first passageway firm, sparing a glance back over his shoulder to her.]
Only that you might not keep up. [Ah, Rip Hunter. Always one to dig his grave ever deeper. But there’s nothing for it now but to continue down that darkened road—or stairwell, in this case. Quick as you like, with one hand safely hovering just above the stairwell in case of the worst.
She’d get bloody damn cross if he lost his balance and dropped her precious locket, after all.]
no subject
Or at least, the amount he’s likely to have consumed over the past two days. So it’s not an entirely unfair concern, even if Rip’s still firmly sure it’s unwarranted. Mostly.
But running! Oh, does that throw a spanner in the works. A brisk walk would be fine enough, and no doubt there’d be some darting about required once the infamous Ratty was in sight. But to break into that faster pace when they still have stairs to climb down, twists and turns to make in order to reach the basement—
So her concern might be slightly more founded than Rip would care to admit. He’s absolutely certain, after all, that a sudden surge of sickness would be decidedly unsexy.
Yet the trap has long been set. Any hesitance now would only open the door further to Peggy to needle him over his reaction to the whole affair, so he hits that first passageway firm, sparing a glance back over his shoulder to her.]
Only that you might not keep up. [Ah, Rip Hunter. Always one to dig his grave ever deeper. But there’s nothing for it now but to continue down that darkened road—or stairwell, in this case. Quick as you like, with one hand safely hovering just above the stairwell in case of the worst.
She’d get bloody damn cross if he lost his balance and dropped her precious locket, after all.]