Night's Omen

Batten looked at him like he was absolutely insane, and Dom wasn't all that unaccustomed to it.  He got that a lot and had for many years, so it was actually something he used to his advantage.  Usually.  The problem here was that he had a specific demand, and he wanted it to be taken seriously.  He also had plans for the day that didn't include standing in the Crimson guild leader's office for a few hours of discussion about his mental health.

"I'm calling Victor.  Have you had any serious head injuries lately?  Concussions?"

"Pick up that fucking phone, Batten, and I WILL shoot you.  I don't need a head injury to want to transfer back into Crimson, so stop being so dramatic," he snapped, though he was saving his real 'attitude dump' for someone else.  He wanted something out of Connor, so he wasn't about to be TOO pissy.  He got a look from the guild leader like the man would just as quickly shoot HIM, and he rolled his eyes.  He did NOT want to explain this.  "Don't we all know I'm a little old for the smash and grabs?  I started out with the careful set-ups, and I'd like to finish off with them."

"Uh, huh.  This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a certain dark-haired senorita?" Connor asked, the corners of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly, and Dom really considered shooting him for an instant.  He was doing this shit on purpose.

"She may have said a thing or two," he conceded, gritting his teeth in the process.  There were multiple reasons for the request of a transfer, but Rhona had been the most blatant.  That, and Dom kept considering shooting Cobriana in the face, and that was NOT conducive to his job security.  Better if he didn't have to be around the man.

Connor paused for a long time, looking over paperwork that he'd have to sign for Dom to take to Lucien, and he seemed unsure he wanted to do it.  That wasn't surprising, but Dom certainly didn't have to like it.  Damn him.

"Okay, well, the fact that we forcibly transferred you LAST time is working against you, Verde.  I would need your word as a raging, trigger-happy lunatic that you will NOT behave like a raging, trigger-happy lunatic.  I've heard rumors that you used to be good at the quiet hits and that you didn't get arrested often, which your file confirms, but I've definitely never seen it.  If you're really planning on reverting to your old ways, the old ways from before you lost your damn mind, then I can take you back in here.  I have one condition," Connor explained, and he actually looked like it might hurt a little to accept Dom back in.  That was entertaining.

"What's your condition?"

"I'm basically going to put you on a temporary basis, for starters.  If you go back to being a total psycho and botching hunts because you're impatient or you think someone in the area is being an idiot, then you're going back to Onyx and Cobriana," he said, and the way he turned his eyes up from the paperwork to Dom as he said 'Cobriana' spoke volumes.  Connor knew what was going on, and was probably taking that information into consideration for his decision.  That was good.

"Agreed."

"Fine, then I'll have this paperwork finished for you before lunchtime.  I'll get it to Cobriana, but I guarantee you're going to have to talk to him personally.  He's not going to just push it through without a chat, I'm sure."

Dom merely nodded, not about to say what was really on his mind.  It might be considering psychotic, and hadn't Connor said that wasn't allowed?  He was going to be careful, at least to the point of not getting caught or screwing up hunts.  He would still get his crazy time in, but rules would be required.  Since those were Rhona's intentions anyway, he could handle it. 

He was out of that office in just a few moments, assuming he'd be getting a call fairly soon from Lucien, one that he may or may not answer for a few hours, depending on his mood.  Instead, he called Rhona.

"Chica, I have an urge to spoil you for lunch.  Where would you like to go?" he started, still unable to break his habit of not offering up normal greetings on the phone.  At least Rhona's were friendly, so nobody should be upset.  Besides, he had good news about the guild switch, and with Batten pushing the paperwork through, Cobriana couldn't really argue.  Well, he could, but it'd be useless.  "Wherever you like, I promise."

  Rhona had been finishing up her weekly routine of cleaning when her cell rang. It played a La Cucaracha, which was funny - even funnier that it was Domingos' ringtone. She'd changed it to other things, but he'd called them all 'really sappy', and the only one he'd laughed at was this one, and thus it had stuck. She set the dust pan down and wiped her hands on her apron, then picked up the phone.

  "Digame" she sang into it. She smiled almost instantly as he spoke, because his first words were promises to spoil her - Rhona didn't mind being pampered at all. She sat down on the couch with a sigh and a "Hmmmmm..." as she wondered what she'd want to eat. "I take it Connor agreed to your transfer?" she asked, voice perking as she considered what she wanted to eat. "Cuban sounds good, should I meet you?" she asked finally.

  Life the past few months had been insane. She couldn't believe things had happened like they had - or so fast. She and Lucien had been well on their way to being married when suddenly he confessed that he had feelings for Irulan. Naturally, Rhona was just too damn much of a bleeding heart to try and push him into a relationship he had doubts about, so she left him - and an easy ten-thousand dollar engagement ring. It was Verde who had found her sitting in a dark room by herself, crying. He'd called Lucien an idiot, and several other colourful things that Rhona didn't permit herself to say, and then made her go wash her face and took her home.

  And that was how it had started. She had assumed it was because Domingos missed his sister, maybe. He'd never been unkind to her, honestly, but he'd never been outright friendly either. He was respectful of her, more or less because she'd overheard him telling someone that she "Wasn't a common whore" like so many of the women he met. Rhona was a good girl, of course. Evidently that just hadn't done her any good where her relationships were concerned.

  Verde, for some reason, refused to leave her to her own devices, though. He showed up after mass to see if she was still doing okay, and offered to walk her home. It became a routine, and then one particular evening, he kissed her. That had been months into the "courting", which she'd now realized it was - clever him, disguising it as trying to be protective of Onyx's favourite Damsel in Distress. Rhona couldn't say she hadn't held feelings for him, too, but she was trying to be polite because she didn't think he was interested. It was inappropriate for her to be attracted to someone who worked for Lucien, or so she imagined.

  But now, that wouldn't matter. Not that it had after a while, anyways - he was a very convincing man when he wanted to be, Verde was. Rhona found it easy to overlook his past when he'd started making an effort to attend church with her - maybe he wasn't a God-fearing man like she'd have wanted, but that he did try to do it, out of respect for her, spoke volumes about him. She had stopped forcing him to go eventually, but he still went with her when he wasn't working. Nobody was perfect.

  "You don't think it's going to be awkward, do you? Should I say something to Lucien, or are you going to ease this over, or...?" she asked, trailing off. She wanted to ask him if he was planning on surprising him with it, but she didn't like to encourage his devious nature. She was working on calming him down, not firing him up - not that she was trying to change him, Heavens no. She was just... trying to give him more to think about than initial angry and violent reactions.

  So far, so good. She was living in the same house as him, so that was a start. They'd gone a while without any broken cookery or television sets, and Domingos made an obvious effort not to emote angrily in her presence. A lot of that, he said, was because she was a good girl. She was lucky - she'd only seen him angry once or twice, and it scared her. She was happy to avoid any of those episodes.

He knew that she'd been prepared for him to be on the other end, despite her usual greeting of 'digame'.  He had a habit of snapping that into the phone with people he didn't like, since it didn't necessarily have to be a polite greeting like 'hello', but that was never Rhona.  She didn't seem to have a mean bone in her body, so when she'd changed his ringtone to La Cucaracha, he'd thought it was hilarious.  Being compared to a cockroach had happened before, and the number of other jokes that went with it just made it that much better.  Besides, it was better than the alternatives had been.  It actually made him smile to know that she'd hear that song start playing and instantly think of him.  That she would think of him at all was just nice.

"Si, he agreed, and he's even sending the paperwork through to Lucien instead of sending me with it," he informed her, mostly pleased with that.  He actually would have liked to see Lucien's face when he got the papers, but he was TRYING not to be ridiculously quick to get into a fight.  He'd still be antagonizing the Onyx leader, but Lucien would contact him at his own discretion.  Since Dom's emotions on the matter didn't have anything to do with timing like Lucien's anger would, he was fine.  He'd enjoy a nice lunch with Rhona while Lucien read through his little 'package'.  Who knew?  Maybe Lucien would be relieved.

Really, Dom didn't care.  He hadn't cared since he'd started looking after Rhona, which had included walking her home from Mass for months, as well as plenty of instances that she never knew about that involved him ensuring that she was safe when he was in the area (which happened more and more often as time passed, because he'd make sure he was in the area), and he wasn't about to start caring what Lucien thought NOW.  If they were going to get into what each other thought, Dom thought a LOT, and none of it was very flattering for Cobriana.  He still didn't know what he'd been thinking as he did it, but he'd been honestly worried about her for some time, and then he'd liked her.  Then, he'd cared more than just 'like', and that was when he'd pushed his 'friendly concern' into something resembling 'courting' a bit more.  Now, look where he was.

He still wasn't a God-fearing man like she wanted, but he made the effort to go to church with her even after she'd stopped insisting that he show up, and church didn't bother him.  He was born in Spain to a family that spent WAY more time in church than he could ever tolerate now, and he could certainly do this for Rhona.  She put up with more than he'd have ever expected, including trying to temper him all this time.  He couldn't believe she'd wanted to move in together, but he certainly hadn't refused.  He'd actually gone out and bought a house, a nice one that he'd had her pick out (he sure as hell didn't spend his money on much else, and hunting had been a lucrative business for him for around twenty-five years now), and he was doing his best to be a person that she'd want to share that house with.  For the first time since his Miranda had died, he was starting to feel like there might be something to that whole 'happiness and contentment' thing that Father Corsier had mentioned a few times.  Besides, it made him feel guilty to scare her by being angry or to upset her by being irritable.  He didn't do guilt too well.

"Do not worry yourself, Rhona, I will handle it all," he promised her, and he meant it.  He hoped she didn't ask him for details afterward, since she might not like to hear it, but he wouldn't lie to her.  "Cuban it is.  I can pick you up if you don't feel like driving, or I can meet you.  This is your treat to enjoy, so you choose."

  "Mm," she said, the sound she always made when he alluded to the idea that he'd tell her if she asked, but he didn't really want to tell her much of anything. She'd learned her lesson a few times; she and Domingos would always have different views on how things should be handled, but even she had to admit that as a helpless bystander 99% of the time, she didn't really get much in the way of a say as to what direction needed to be taken when pressure had to be applied.

  "No, I can meet you there. I don't need you to rush all the way back here and pick me up, just to go back into town. Besides, that little BMW Roadster you got me just sits in the garage. It's the nicest birthday present I've ever had, and I drive it maybe once a week," she chastised. "Let me change, and I'll meet you there. Besos," she said - 'kisses'.

  Rhona quickly put the rest of her cleaning supplies away, and ran a lint roller over the black, simple skirt and 3/4 sleeved shirt she wore. She slid into some heels and picked up the keys to her BMW, a small, convertible and very bright yellow little car. It was almost too fast for her, but Dom had insisted she have something nice and quick, just in case. He knew that she'd rather flee than fight, and he tried to make the gift sound more "practical" with that tacked on to all of the features it had. She hadn't minded, really, in the end. She was trying to become more open to being doted upon, even if it was foreign to her at times.

  She'd forgotten how much hunters had made. Rhona had a healthy life, she wouldn't complain. She was at the restaurant in no time, parking right out front as usual. The couple went there so much that they were known by name, order, and had their very own table almost indefinitely open. It didn't hurt that Dom was a good tipper. For someone with such a surly reputation, he was more generous than he let on, which was yet another reason Rhona liked him so much.

  Domingos was quite much more than what he appeared.

It was quite natural that Rhona would have an excellent car, what with the way Dom drove.  He really should have been a getaway driver instead of a hunter, had been for hunts in the past, and had probably been for a mob in a past life.  He just had a natural talent behind the wheel of a car, something that included incredible speeds, way too much in the way of sharp turns and somehow arriving at the destination in one piece.  It was something to see, absolutely, but even more amazing was watching him drive under normal conditions.  Given what most knew of his driving, nobody expected him to even understand the rules of the road, and he pretended that he didn't most of the time.  There were a few exceptions to that rule, and Rhona happened to be one of them.  So long as there was no risk of injury or death if he was too slow, he would obey the law when she was in the car, just for the sake of her sanity.  If she was ever in the passenger seat when he really pushed the car to its limits, she might not make it (between the ride itself and worrying about whether he drove like that all the time).  Better not to go there.

"Besos," he repeated, though she'd likely already pulled the phone from her ear or hung up.  It was honestly more spoken to himself; surprise over the fact that he was even here in this situation with her, more than likely.  He'd certainly put in the time and effort to earn it, and he certainly wasn't complaining, but if he thought too hard about it he'd started feeling amazed all over again.  Inevitably, that translated into doting upon her, if only because he had the money to do so and it pleased her so much to be spoiled.  She certainly didn't come from a background that would have made her accustomed to it, and so it was that much more satisfying.  Besides, he was actually a fairly generous individual.  He just hid it really well, and she'd caught him at that not too long into their relationship.  He didn't even try to put on the surly attitude for her all that much anymore, relaxing in her presence like he hadn't for anyone in years.  It was wonderful.

Not surprising was the fact that the parking spot he usually used was open, or that Rhona had beat him there by a few minutes.  The bright yellow Roadster (she'd chosen the color, after he'd drilled her for awhile about it) was out front, heat still rising from the engine as he walked past and reached over for a brief instant to gauge it.  Only a few minutes, and that made sense.  She was closer than he was when he'd called her.  That meant he didn't have to wait when he walked inside, because she'd already be at the table that they always got, menus closed and order already prepared.  They switched it up sometimes, but not often. 

Leaning down to kiss her, a quick glance over the table confirmed his guess from the car.  She didn't even have her drink yet, so she couldn't have been there long at all.  The servers were always quick.  "Did you order, yet?" he asked as he took his seat, menu pushed aside.  It wasn't necessary.