Susan pauses with her hand to a door, and glances over at Lancelot. For the briefest moment, she looks startled, and then her expression turns completely inscrutable.
Lancelot is so terribly, terribly good. She's known all along about the gentleness he carries, protectively, at his core. How could she not? It's shone through their every interaction, even in her dim, alcohol-soaked memories of their first meeting. Oh, he was chivalrous, of course, but he was also kind. Gentle. Listening intently, answering thoughtfully. And ever since then, too. She used to protest when she thought he was being too gentle with her, but now -- watching him with this queer, unsettling creature, treating it the same way he treats Sunny, and Gideon, and Sagramore when he was falling-over drunk, and, regularly, Susan herself... well!
For a moment, worry lances through her. He's got such a big heart, and so much care. She already worries about others mistreating him, or taking advantage of it -- after all, that was at the crux of... one of her myriad miscommunications with Sagramore, and it's at the crux of her issues with Magnus, too -- but now another worry emerges.
Carefully, tidily, and with a swiftness, she buries the worry before it has a chance to emerge fully into her consciousness. Then she pushes the door open and gesture Lancelot through. "SecUnit lives just down this hall," she says.
no subject
Lancelot is so terribly, terribly good. She's known all along about the gentleness he carries, protectively, at his core. How could she not? It's shone through their every interaction, even in her dim, alcohol-soaked memories of their first meeting. Oh, he was chivalrous, of course, but he was also kind. Gentle. Listening intently, answering thoughtfully. And ever since then, too. She used to protest when she thought he was being too gentle with her, but now -- watching him with this queer, unsettling creature, treating it the same way he treats Sunny, and Gideon, and Sagramore when he was falling-over drunk, and, regularly, Susan herself... well!
For a moment, worry lances through her. He's got such a big heart, and so much care. She already worries about others mistreating him, or taking advantage of it -- after all, that was at the crux of... one of her myriad miscommunications with Sagramore, and it's at the crux of her issues with Magnus, too -- but now another worry emerges.
Carefully, tidily, and with a swiftness, she buries the worry before it has a chance to emerge fully into her consciousness. Then she pushes the door open and gesture Lancelot through. "SecUnit lives just down this hall," she says.