Steve doesn't really pay that much attention to the annoyance this time.
But he isn't ignoring it, this time. It's just there. This worried snap of sound that still sounds like a shell of the earlier ranting tone, that actually was annoyed, and ages away from the scathing rage that was You're right. I don't like you. This one is more along the lines of I don't know what is going on, but once I figure out what you're doing wrong, you're going to pay for it. A growl, all fuss and fire, with no meat behind it.
"I think I know someone who can help us." Steve said it even and easy, like it was all part of this. The case, and the day, and the whatever the last twenty minutes were or still are. Because that's still bigger than this tiny pause, with it's biting confusion over there. The case. And Hesse. And his Dad. And the containers smuggling people out of Asia. That might have held both a little girl, and an international terrorist.
One left, and then they'll be headed right back into his morning. Back to the Arizona, and the place where Jameson made him the offer he denied and then had to reverse tracks on. Like the one that happened in the garage and just now in the car. This day feels covered in doubling back on where he was to where he had been before, things he should have picked up or used earlier, but didn't know how they'd fit into the picture, or be needed, until hours after he'd already left them.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-20 04:38 am (UTC)But he isn't ignoring it, this time. It's just there. This worried snap of sound that still sounds like a shell of the earlier ranting tone, that actually was annoyed, and ages away from the scathing rage that was You're right. I don't like you. This one is more along the lines of I don't know what is going on, but once I figure out what you're doing wrong, you're going to pay for it. A growl, all fuss and fire, with no meat behind it.
"I think I know someone who can help us." Steve said it even and easy, like it was all part of this. The case, and the day, and the whatever the last twenty minutes were or still are. Because that's still bigger than this tiny pause, with it's biting confusion over there. The case. And Hesse. And his Dad. And the containers smuggling people out of Asia. That might have held both a little girl, and an international terrorist.
One left, and then they'll be headed right back into his morning. Back to the Arizona, and the place where Jameson made him the offer he denied and then had to reverse tracks on. Like the one that happened in the garage and just now in the car. This day feels covered in doubling back on where he was to where he had been before, things he should have picked up or used earlier, but didn't know how they'd fit into the picture, or be needed, until hours after he'd already left them.