WHAT DOESN'T KILL YOU [SLANSKY]

[HUSHER]

The weather had graduated from a pleasant warm morning into The Afternoon of Scorching Death. The wind had picked up, churning the ruddy dunes relentlessly until curtains of sand swept across the landscape. On the outskirts of the Fallen territory the miles of desert seemed unwelcoming and utterly barren. However, in the distance a dark splotch materialized from between the hills and drew closer to the campsite until one might make it out as a near-black lupine.

The wolf’s light eyes were pinched against both sun and sand and his jaws were parted to allow his tongue to loll in an overheated pant. Husher was a large wolf in frame though not in bulk and as he walked toward the train cars he shifted into a tall and tanned human man of much the same structure. Over a decade of uncompromising military duties had always kept him muscled and fit, but it was the severe year in the Menagerie that had melted away any bit of fat or pretentious muscle on his frame until he was a more rangy specimen –marked by too many nights without sleep and too many days without food. None the less, even in this state and in his mid-thirties he was attractive, his shoulders set and sure, and without design always managed to hold a protective and competent air.

Reaching the caboose he sometimes shared with Cole, or, Little Sister as he just as often called her – he hulloed the open door without answer. She must have wandered off again. She was like that, always coming and going without apology or need of it. The fact that she left for sometimes days on end was not unusual. Likely she had guessed he’d be back soon and left the door cracked to keep the inside from broiling. However, the recent boot prints and distinct scent of a Czech-Russian he knew well gave him warning enough that he was unsurprised when it was Slansky Kirov that answered his call.

Husher’s hand went to his sun-glasses to pull them from his sweaty face. Folding them he set them by a makeshift table that lived outside by a small tub of water he constantly refilled, used, and dumped for basic wash. “Slansky,” he said in greeting with a preoccupied nod.

It had taken months but Husher was finally getting used to having this kid around. Kid was a stretch – he was only a few years younger than Husher himself, but the fact that Kirov was living with and involved with his barely sixteen year old daughter give him ample reason to keep his mind off the fact. Once Akane had made it clear that any interference with Slansky would only feed the distance between them, Husher had backed off. It was either that or lose the relationship with his daughter. It helped that (though he at first was loathed to admit it) Slansky was reliable, and straightforward. The territorial and uncompromising men ended up paired on a few missions for their Ring, and, once Husher had simmered down about Slansky’s relationship with his daughter realized that they even worked well together. They had both been formally trained in professional backgrounds … and even once or twice they had swapped stories from Before. Now, it wasn’t uncommon for Slansky to stop by some nights for a few hands at poker, and between their begrudging efforts in the stressful situation they had created a tentative but solid understanding. Friendship would have been a strong word, but enemies stronger still.

The lupine shifter reached over his back to snag the long sleeved-sweat soaked pale shirt from his back and peel it over his head. He tossed the shirt to the rim of the tub, then half dove into the bucket of water. His hands scrubbed at his stubbled face, sun burned neck, and tired body to clear it of sweat and sand before snagging the shirt and plunging it several times as well – setting to give it the same treatment.

”I wasn’t expecting you tonight. Everything okay?” It was an unloaded question, and Husher half expected that he was either relaying a message or needed Husher for another mission, though they had just returned from one the day before and it was unusual for Thomas to send them out again so soon.

Wringing out the shirt then laying it out to dry, he wiped his face once and leaned an arm against the lip of the train car. The beads of water on his bare chest and shoulders were already beginning to evaporate, and he squinted slightly as he looked up at Kirov.

[Slansky Kirov]

Slansky had never been an avid procrastinator; he preferred to work efficiently, one task after the next. It was a trait that occasionally annoyed Akane, considering it would be well into the night and he would restlessly be making repairs to clothing, shoes, cabinets, chairs, weapons, etc cetera. He rarely relaxed; Slansky maintained a rigid schedule in his mind of what needed to be done and when. He woke up early, he went to sleep late. He did not procrastinate.

This was entirely different than anything he had faced in his past. He felt as though he were sixteen himself, standing in front of his mother as she lectured him on the subject of women. "I swear to God Slansky Kirov, if you knock a girl up out of wedlock I will castrate you." Well, in his memory it was nice to call it a "lecture" rather than a threat. Slansky was aware of the fact that his mother never wanted him to end up in a situation similar to hers; with a child and a life he was unhappy with. That was not his problem here, with the sweat budding at the nape of his neck, his calloused hands twisting nervously in and around themselves. The problem was the fact that he was in a situation where it was necessary he confess the truth. He went over it again and again in his mind. "Well, Husher... I knocked up your daughter." Too crude. "Husher... I would like to apologize... but I've impregnated your daughter." He was not sorry, so why apologize? Slansky's mouth was dry from the heat and his nerves both. 

It felt as though he had been waiting an eternity. In reality, it could not have been longer than thirty minutes. That felt like an extremely long time under the circumstances and also under the sun. Slansky felt the heat in his bones although the warmth did little to make him lethargic. He remained high-strung. 

Slansky almost left the train car several times, eager to make an excuse. "Your father was not there. I will try again tomorrow." Slansky was not a coward, however. He had already waited too long to tell Husher the news and it was easy to rationalize that the longer he waited the more difficult it would be. Thus, every time he began to doubt himself, he took a deep breath and forced himself to still. Husher and himself were not on the most amiable terms; but Slansky had begun to bridge the gap between himself and Akane's father. He could not blame Husher for his reaction to their affair, nor could he hold a grudge against the man if he decided that it would be best to kill Slansky then and there. Knowing that he would have a child soon (although he did not know whether they would be male or female) Slansky could relate even more easily--if their places were reversed, Slansky was almost certain he would not have demonstrated the same amount of control during their first meeting, much less now. He was expecting the worst so he could be better prepared to deal with what came. 

Akane's pregnancy would send their fragile comradeship toppling into oblivion. Slansky could pace no longer without trying to escape; Slansky slung himself into the lip of the doorway, sitting uncertainly on the edge. He managed to keep his composure regardless, his olive complexion lacking a pallor that would otherwise betray his internal struggle. In fact, Slansky appeared at ease, his posture alert but relaxed. He was the same handsome young man he typically was; self-assured, able, level-headed.

He still had to force himself to keep from stiffening at Husher's approach and instead greeted Akane's father with a polite nod. "I apologize for dropping by unannounced." He was still not deft enough in English to speak it; thus shiftertongue remained his default form of communication. He kept his tone carefully neutral; Slansky felt that if the wolf smelled a hint of fear, he would quickly seize the opportunity to utilize it. "Everything is fine... but I do have something I need to talk to you about." 

Slansky abandoned his position at the edge of the train car, jumping down to stand before Husher. He squared his shoulders as though preparing to take on an onslaught of bulls, rather than a man. Slansky stole a moment to steady himself and what he was prepared to say; he looked Husher directly in the eye, not in a challenge but out of respect. "Akane is pregnant."

[HUSHER]

Slansky was good. He had taken care not to reveal that anything was wrong.
Husher had not been paying attention to any cues, any signs that something might have been amiss - and he was blind sided.

Husher blinked a moment and stood up from his relaxed position. Had he heard him right? His fingers went to the bridge of his nose as his head shifted down with a pinched expression before clearing and giving a gruff chuckle. When he looked back up it was with a sobered Death Sentence in his pale eyes as his piercing stare lanced through Slansky - pinning him where he stood. Husher took a step forward until he was almost nose to nose with the younger man.

”What did you say?” he asked in a dangerously soft tone.

His stance shifted infinitesimally, the toe of his boot touching Slansky’s as an inhuman, wolf-like savage growl began deep in his body. His mind scrambled to alert him to things his wife would have pointed out to him. They were sleeping together Hush, what did you think would happen? She is what is important. Her reasonable tone was overtaken with a crimson wave of frenzied madness.

He had tolerated all of this to a degree that took every restraint he knew or could create - including the echoing voice of his dead wife telling him that if Husher killed Akane’s boyfriend she would never forgive him. Now? Any reminisce of a once patient father was replaced with the air of unharnessed rage and the palpable promise of violence.

[Slansky Kirov]

At first Slansky believed Husher took the information surprisingly well. 

Perhaps the Czech-Russian had not anticipated the shock value of saying it so abruptly... Something to do better next time, Slansky thought without meaning too, only to realize that if everything went well there would not be a next time. Or, from the expression on Husher's face, Slansky might not even live that long. He shuddered at the look he was given but he refused to step backward; it was not due to pride. It was because he had to do this and he had to do it properly. He was not going to disappoint Akane due to the fact he chickened out, or ran. Pride may have played a small part as well--Slansky did not back down, but he did glance away briefly before re-meeting Husher's predatory stare. 

"Akane is pregnant." Slansky repeated, shifting backward until his back hit the rail-car. He had no where to escape and he could not defend himself against Husher. "I love them." Slansky murmured, almost defiantly. His eyes were ablaze. Timidity may have done him well in this sort of situation, but he had never known how to exercise emotions he did not feel. He raised his hands, palms facing outward, as though to placate the raging father before him. Slansky knew that it would do little good. "I love your daughter, sir. I know that this relationship is not what you would want it to be and that I am too old for her... but with all due respect, sir, your daughter is more mature than many people. I am more than capable of taking care of her and our child. More capable than a teenage boy would be, sir." 

Slansky spoke crisply and efficiently, albeit quickly. He recognized the violence in Husher's eyes and even if he could not escape it he sought to prolong it. "The Menagerie is not a place for traditional values; but I want to marry her, if I can. I want to make a home for us here, sir, with your blessing." 

His cards were all on the table. 

But Husher was better at poker than he. 

[HUSHER]

Husher could not breathe for the anger and blood thirst that he had not felt since the night UNIT had taken The Husher family. Slansky’s words hit deaf ears and as the younger man’s back hit the train car, Husher took fist-fulls of the man’s shirt and lifted him from the ground, slamming him back once so hard it shook the train car. His chest heaved, his face twisted in a rage that was finally released as he dropped his hold and turned on his heel to bellow into the empty desert in defeat.

He could not leave Akane without Slansky - especially if she were pregnant. It was a miracle that he could restrain himself. He wanted to shift and eat this kid, but the women in his life would never forgive him. Well - Cole probably wouldn’t care that much … but Husher remembered his daughters face that day she had defended Slansky, the determination that she had shown was a face he had seen a thousand times when she was growing up.

A myriad of memories of his little girl flashed through his mind. Her face when she had fallen for the first time, her resolve when she said she wanted to continue public school after her first shift, her tender-hearted apology when they had argued into yells, and her delighted smile when she had done something she hadn’t thought she could. His little girl - she was gone. He wanted to cry, to fix it, to kill someone, to … he bellowed again and half turned back. His hands grasped his head as he breathed doggedly and fought for his control.

The Menagerie is not a place for traditional values. The words Slansky had said a moment before sank in, and after a moment he looked back to Slansky. Slowly he took a step forward, his brittle control visible as he ground out between his teeth, ”The Menagerie is not a place for children.”

His stance shifted again and he put a finger in Slansky’s face as his eyes narrowed. ”Hell gives a shit why but she chose you Kirov. You love her and that’s nice, but if you think that saying a few pretty words is going to sway me…” he stopped as his pointed digit curled into a fist and lowered. He took another breath then started again.

“In this family, our word is our bond. We hold each other to it, and we trust each other to follow through. The word means nothing. Being a husband, raising a child is beyond difficult in the real world and will be impossible in the dome,” he said - his words rough but clear.

“You leave? You cheat? You do anything that makes my daughter unhappy? I will end your life Kirov do you understand? I am giving you an out now, because I want you to understand the commitment that you are making to my daughter. If you are not willing to work and worry every day of that child’s life for the rest of yours and make every effort to make Akane’s happy? You are not good enough.”

He took another step forward. ”You see me? You see what I have done for my family? And it still wasn’t good enough we ended up in this shit-drain and the love of my life, my wife, dead,” his voice cracked and he cleared it before continuing a bit quieter. “I’m telling you now Kirov - this is your out. If you are not willing to die every day to make it better for them, leave. Now. And do NOT come back.”

Husher took a step back from the hard unflinching face before him and narrowed his eyes once more, impressing upon him everything he could about what it meant to bind yourself to someone. Most people couldn't cut it - and if Kirov couldn't .... Husher needed to do damage control now.

[Slansky Kirov]

It was instinct to defend himself; but he fought it, understanding that this was unavoidable and that he would be lucky if he lived after this encounter. Slansky's hands remained lifted helplessly in a gesture of peace, one that was not acknowledge as he was slammed backward into the rail-car with a surprising amount of strength. The air rushed from his lungs and he released a pained groan, but he did not fall when Husher released him. He landed lightly on his feet, albeit with a grimace, and fought to regain control of his breathing. Everything in him wanted to react angrily; to respond to yelling with yelling and blows with blows. But he would not, for Akane's sake. He straightened and met Husher with determination. 

”The Menagerie is not a place for children.”

Slansky would be a liar if he said that had not been his initial thought after discovering Akane was pregnant.

The Menagerie was a place for tragedies.

And he knew that. But what could he do?  

"You think I do not know that?" He, a man that had sworn against children? He, a man who believed everything to be forsaken? He was a cynic at heart but Akane made him strive to be better--that was what made her so good for him. "I know that this is not a place for children! But I cannot change it, can I?" 

Every decision had consequences. This was not merely a matter of being afraid to have this conversation with Husher; this was a matter of being terrified for the future. He knew the moment that Akane showed signs of pregnancy that he would spend the rest of his life worrying not only about Akane and himself but about a child. He would worry through famine, through war, through drought, through flood. He would forever be fighting to take care for someone in a careless land. He met Husher's stare, chin notched, jaw clenched. 

"I am willing to do the impossible for my family, Husher." This was hard for both of them; Slansky saw it in Husher's eyes. His world had already been set aflame and now the rubble was being demolished. Whatever remained of his life outside of the Dome was gone now, shredded, and he was terrified. Slansky shared that fear wholeheartedly; he met Husher not in anger but in compassion. But he could not keep his voice from rising steadily in the heat of the moment. His temper flared and the mere suggestion that he would hurt or betray her. "Akane deserves better than me. Do you think I, of all people, don't know that? I don't know why she chose me, sir. I ask myself that every damn day. I am not backing out on her now; she may deserve more than me but she doesn't deserve that, and she sure isn't going to go through this without me. They are my responsibility now--Akane has been mine responsibility since I found her. I don't know if you know that or not, Husher, but before you found her I took care of her. She is my life, my light. She is my family, sir, and I am not going anywhere. You can try to drag me away, or kill me, or scare me. But I'm not going anywhere." 

Again, his shoulders squared. He was looking down at Husher with complete resolve. It did not matter what happened here. He was going to stay with Akane and the mere implication that he would not ignited his fury. He did not use the word love lightly.

[HUSHER]

Husher regarded the man for several moments, tensed and weary as they puffed at each other in stand off. Slansky’s words were fighting into Husher’s brain and rang true. No matter how much he wanted to, he could not deny that he was right. He had no designs on getting him to leave, but if he would he wanted him to do it now. He said he would not and that only left one thing.

”No shit son, After all, you‘re still here,” he curbed the acidity in his tone but could not quite escape the sarcasm of the word son His eyes had never left Kirov’s and they narrowed now as he scowled at him. Husher’s next words were just as harsh. ”Let’s have a drink and talk then,” his arm shot out, the heel of his palm cuffing Slansky’s shoulder a bit harder than play as he hopped into the rail car and fished out a bottle of whiskey.

Sitting on a crate, he pulled two glasses and filled both of them to the brim. Setting the bottle between them, his unshaking hand snagged his glass and with the arch of a brow and rise of the glass in ‘cheers’ downed it. With a rough swallow of the burning liquid he poured himself another and took a pull. Slanksy was still standing there starting at him. Husher took a deep breath and gestured to the other crate.

Once he sat, Husher spoke again. The sincerity of his voice was uncompromising but now that he had even the sliver of confidence that the man would stick around, he had to set him right about some things. His thumb and forefinger wiped the corners of his mouth in thought before he started.

”When I met Akane’s mother - I was done for. I met her in Japan. I was on duty for three years there and spoke almost no Japanese, but she spoke English and we made it work. She tolerated my jealousies, coaxed my fears that she might leave me, and made me a man. You’re not a man until the women you love sees you as one and relies on you to be the best you can be every damn day. It’s hard. God knows it’s hard,” he gazed out into the desert as he said this. Not looking at Slansky. ”But it’s worth every second of happiness she will give you.”

”You said Akane’s your family now,” he picked up his glass and took another drink. ”I’m your family now. Father? No but family none the less. If you are having any kind of problems from marital to providing and you don’t come to me? Well, it won’t go well for you. Sometimes being a man is knowing when to ask for help, and I expect that you will seek it when you need it.” The side of his mouth kicked up in humor.

”I’ve gotten in my fair share of fights with my daughter over the years. She’s two handfuls and a firecracker to boot. Get’s that from her old man,” he said almost apologetically and looked at Slansky.

[Slansky Kirov]

Slansky, taken aback by Husher's sudden change in demeanor, said nothing in response to it. There was nothing for him to say. Slansky had made his point and by the way Husher reacted it was sound enough not to warrant further debate. The Czech-Russian was relieved. If Husher could support them in this it meant one less thing for Slan to worry about. But... perhaps that was not the right way to phrase such a statement. Slansky would forever worry about Husher and whether or not he approved of him--it went hand-in-hand with being in a relationship with Akane. Slansky nodded and sat on the proffered crate, his shoulders slackening as though he had been relieved of a great burden. In truth, he had been.

His eyes flicked to the whiskey; a part of him wanted to accept it but a greater part of him remembered the hot feeling of alcohol in his gut and what it so often reduced him to. "I apologize, but I do not drink." Slansky reached out to finger the glass. He did not do it to offend Husher and he hoped desperately that the man understood that--but there were some demons that did not need reawakening. "When I met Akane's mother..."

Slansky listened intently, head cocked slightly to the side. His hair fell to his brow and the expression he wore was an interested one, albeit somewhat shocked and disbelieving. It was unlike any story his mother had told him of his father, or her relationship with his father. It was... romantic, surprisingly. The words struck Slansky hard; much harder than Husher's earlier push had. Jealousies, fears, insecurities. They plagued the Czech-Russian even if he hated to admit it. He constantly doubted not their relationship or even Akane--he doubted himself and his ability. He did not believe he deserved what he had, as he had already said to Husher. "Thank you for the advice, sir." Slansky ran a hand through his hair, pressing the palm of it against his forehead. He leaned an elbow onto his knee, the posture of a man going to surrender. His eyes flicked to Husher--the dazed look Slansky wore had not faded.

"This is all so... different for me. You said it. Akane is a firecracker." He said her name fondly, the way that lover's did. "I know nothing about raising a family, though. I hardly had a family growing up. I took care of myself--my father died when I was a kid and my mother was... absent at best." His tone was a dry one. "I know that it will not be easy." Despite the nature of his words and the severity of the conversation, there was still a gleam of excitement that could not be hidden. He was a new father, flush with the anticipation and joy of bringing a child to the world. Even if it was not a good one.

[HUSHER]

Husher’s eyes wandered to Slansky’s face briefly, his grey-blue hues catching the younger man’s expression; anxious exhausted confusion. Anger still rumbled deep beneath his … almost calm … façade. He wondered if there wasn’t a part of him that would always want to quite savagely kill Kirov. The side of his mouth kicked up as he gazed out again to the barren landscape and he set down the empty glass solidly before lowering his elbows to his knees, his chin and mouth resting against his interlaced fingers in thought. It almost looked like he was praying. It would not have been far off. Sakura give me strength, were four words that whispered in his mind as if he were a priest, begging his god for help. The apocalypse of a life they all survived day after day would push anyone past their breaking point and the world in the dome was not the world outside. Sure, on the outside Kirov might have been considered a predator. Dating a minor as an adult at any age was not well looked upon … but here? Things were different here. Akane wasn’t a child for Slansky to corrupt. Looking back, Husher realized that she had never been as immature as others her age. She couldn’t be. She’d had too much responsibility. Even in school she’d always made friends several years older than herself. Slansky had a point … she was more mature than most people. To talk with her briefly, one might miss it. She was active and vivacious, energetic and perhaps a little overenthusiastic about things sometimes, but only a moron would dismiss her as impetuous or stupid. In recognizing this, Husher realized that indeed the way he had raised Akane would have fostered an inability to relate to anyone her own age. So why would she ever date, or fall in love with, someone her own age? As Slansky rumbled quietly through shifter-tongue about his concerns, that he’d had little enough of his own family as a boy to know what he was doing, his tone shifted curiously – causing Husher to look up. When he saw Slansky’s face the hardness of his expression lessened a touch and he took a deep breath and sighed. “Not having something is experience too, ya know,” his voice was raspy from his prior rage. He couldn’t shake the need to hunt something down and destroy it. He poured himself another glass of the amber liquid and in hopes of taking the edge off, sipped it between his thoughtful words. His hands might have shaken, but he was too controlled for that. “Feeling the absence of family? You've experienced the cost of neglect. That’s one of the most important things right there - being there when you can. It is different in the dome. There are no guarantees out here. When we,” he gestured a hand including Slansky and himself then pointed to the desert, “go out there; there is no warranty for our loved ones that they’ll get us back. It was the same in the corps, and we have to take risks to get the job done. Sometimes, the risks are worth it. Sometimes they’re not. Having a wife and kid at home changes things for you when you’re out there; all you’ll be thinking about is getting back to them. But you can’t guarantee it, Kirov.” His words were slow and patient, but far from condescending. He’d seen the fear in his mens' faces. He’d seen the desperation and anguish in their eyes as they weighed the consequences of even something as simple as belly crawling across an open patch of grass. Not every man was cut out for it. Here, there was no choice. Here sometimes not taking the risk meant not surviving, and Husher knew Slansky’d had plenty of experience with that. “Your old man did it wrong, sounds like your mother was a second runner up,” Husher shook his head. “That doesn’t mean a damn thing. You make your own way in life, and will be the kind of father you want to be when it’s your turn. You are the one that controls that, not your past.” He wished Sakura were here to help their daughter as she moved into a new season of life. Though Akane had always been friendly, her guard had always been up with others. Trusting was not something that automatically came with knowing people and he had not seen her bonding with many of the Fallen. In this, he was happy she had Slansky. I know she deserves better, Slansky’s earlier words rang in his mind and Husher sighed inwardly. What father could find a man that was good enough for his daughter? But it wasn’t his choice, it was Akane’s. “So what’s this about marrying Akane? Did you ask her? Does she agree?”

[Slansky Kirov]

He listened intently, filled to the brim with fear and elation both. He had seen too many examples of neglect. Slansky had not been raised in a good place. It was forgotten, a grotto, where grit made certain nothing remained white for long. He had seen children forgotten, abused, starved, unloved. It had also been in the bitterness of every grown man's eyes; Slansky had worked alongside a forsaken generation and bore the resemblance. His look was a haunted one, as always, weary and uncertain. What Husher said was true. There were no guarantees in the Menagerie, something that Slansky worried about constantly. He could make as many promises to Akane as he wished; that did not necessarily mean he could keep them, however. "I will do my best to do the  most for them." It was a solemn oath; his eyes were steady, now. That was all he could promise with any guarantee of success.

"So what is this about you marrying Akane? Did you ask her? Does she agree?"

Slansky glanced toward his feet momentarily and then up again, meeting Husher's eyes. Slansky chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek, a gesture that caused his jaw to tightened and added emphasis to just how exhausted he appeared. "I wanted to bring it up to you first, sir. I wanted your blessing to ask her." Slansky had never imagined himself capable of this conversation; prior to the Menagerie he had been a man too broken for a relationship. He had his fair share of experience in flings and one night stands, in tasting desperation on a woman's lips and leaving her with nothing but emptiness. He had sworn off marriage, children, happiness. "Akane may not be pleased with me for that, since I think she would argue that it is her decision and not yours... but I respect you and if I can avoid further ill will between us, I will. It is still her choice to say yes or no but I do want to marry her, sir."

It was not just because it was the right thing. It was because Slansky could not imagine his life without her in it, now. She held him close and tethered him to his humanity. Akane made him want to be a better man and it was to her that he went, time and time again, for comfort and love. When he thought of home he no longer thought of Russia, or the Express, or even the desert. He thought of Akane. He thought of her warm arms and her soft lips and her compassion and her mischief. It was what he thought of when he was away--of coming home.

[HUSHER]

It was a tense conversation. It always was when two people loved another. If Slansky wanted to marry his daughter, that should have been a good thing right? The anger he felt rumbled, anxiety and worry tightening in his chest. I will do my best to do the most for them, he vowed. Kirov could have promised Husher anything in any way and it would not have cured his uneasiness – but this was not about him. It was about his daughter. The man wanted his blessing? Husher reflected a moment on how this conversation would have gone if Akane had told him herself. He would have been angry, lectured her as he had Kirov, then promptly tried to find the man and kill him. Instead, Slansky had skipped all that, and shielded Akane – taking the responsibility completely on his own shoulders. It was something Husher himself would have done. Kirov was including Husher in way he did not have to. Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell. He could not have said why that piece of poetry popped into his head just then. It was something he quoted once to his men, when their mission did not give them options and some might have said it was a suicide mission. It was from a famous poem, Charge of the Light Brigade. Later he would think on it, but just now his attentions shifted again. When Slansky commented that Akane might be angry with him, Husher could not stop the single chuckle that escaped him. She would be mad all of three seconds until Slansky asked her to marry him, then it would be nothing but joy. Likely it would immediately follow with her anxiety about Husher, but Kirov had already taken care of that. “You’re right, but it won’t last long,” he said thoughtfully. He eased passed the man’s comment on avoiding future ill wills. He didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. Marry her. She wouldn’t get a traditional wedding. Priest, ring, dress would be all but impossible to find here. But Sparker wasn’t much for the lavish. She wouldn’t need those things anyway. “Well, I’ll tell you what,” he began and rose to his feet. After a moment Kirov stood as well. They were of a similar height, and assessing each other eye to eye was not difficult. He was a good man, Husher knew that. He would take care of Akane and could - he knew that too. Still, if anything happened to Akane on Kirov's watch, Husher would hold him responsible. That, they both knew. “If she says yes you have my blessings,” he almost challenged. Husher was quite positive his daughter would accept. He'd seen her with him and the light in her eyes was no lesser than Sakura's had been when she looked at Husher. However he couldn’t help giving the impression that it would not go well for Slansky if she said no, and that no was a possible answer. It was petty but Husher smiled almost wolfishly and put his hand out to shake on it. “Deal?”

[Slansky Kirov]

Slansky had not been so afraid staring death in the eye. There had been gunfights, criminals, and even animals far less terrifying that that second was as he awaited an answer, either an acceptance or a disagreement. The air held the tension of a lightening storm, with thunder absent, merely the tension between bright flashes and savage rain. He held the gaze of Akane's father, giving respect while simultaneously and politely requesting it be returned. He would not be cowed; he would be respectful. It was only when Husher finally uttered his agreement, his "deal", that Slansky allowed the tension in his shoulders to slacken. He extended his hand to meet Husher's to "seal" what had already been established. 

"It sounds like a deal to me, sir." For all the wolfishness of Husher's smile, Slansky matched it with a fox-like glint to his own eye. He smiled, widely and genuinely, with a boyish delight that was typical of a man in love. He could not contain himself--in fact, he could not wait any longer. "I do not see why I should not ask her now. The sooner the better, before you change your mind." He offered his hand one last time, awaiting to see if Husher would take it, if this would truly be a sort of bond between them. They both loved Akane, in very different ways, and Slansky fully intended to prove that his intentions were genuine and good. He would do what he could for his family. He would provide for them. And already he was filled with a nervous, giddy excitement. She would say yes. She had to say yes. But despite the firmness of their relationship doubt still creeped in, illogical and cruel, to color his thoughts. 

So he stepped back from Husher. "Thank you. Thank you very much." He did not mean to be rude with his haste; but, now with permission, he could no longer refrain. Slansky shapeshifted abruptly and with a graceful pivot turned in the direction of his own train-car. He left at a run, a dead sprint, limbs fully extended to eat up the sand in little to no time. He hurried because he knew Akane would be back soon and it would take some work to set up the train-car in any "romantic" manner. He would have to find flowers and decent food and candles. It was not in his nature to be cliche, but... there were exceptions to every rule. 

[HUSHER]

END OF THREAD