Spark {Victor}

[Daphne Holliday]

 Daphne rotated as he began to speak, trailing - Victor would probably follow, if nothing more than he was slightly over what had just occurred. That and, of course, it was obvious that their subject matter would be perhaps less-than-desirable to the improper ears. Daphne fully believed that he wasn't going to tell her everything; he'd omit things, give her just enough to satiate what he could, but he wouldn't outright lie to her. It wasn't that he was dignified; it just wasn't in his particular code of conduct. Daphne wasn't sure where he drew lines, and God, she wanted to find out so badly that sometimes her fingers twitched inside her pockets, itching to give him just the tiniest cut, to see what colour he bled and all the things that it would tell her.

  With a smile, she shook her head a little, the familiar gentle and inquisitive nature of the Daphne Holliday that Victor would know sweeping over her features that had been previously knitted with concern. She looked down at the ground as she spoke, and then up ahead, tucking her chart under her arm as she walked. "That's fair enough," she said. "How about I just ask if I need to worry just yet," she said. She paused only for a moment, catching his eyes.

  When he said the remark about being stalked, Daphne visibly paled. Internally, she could only dare that vampire brat to try it; Victor was easily considered part of her territory - someone that she couldn't cut open because she respected him too goddamned much, despite how much she fucking wanted it. She couldn't allow herself to loose that control, or she'd never forgive herself. Anyone else getting in the way of the good thing she had going on would feel every bit of wrath as only she could give it, and Daphne could give, and give, and give. She was a generous girl.

  She let a nervous laugh escape her, and stepped close enough to him to let someone pass them by; the hallway she'd turned down was narrow enough that she could feel the warmth from his body. "Please tell me you're not seriously joking about that," she said, voice hushed. She furrowed her brows, but her expression was less concerned and almost fretting; fearful. Large eyes were wide, mouth only opened slightly in shock. No, his jokes didn't always go over well with Daphne, and that was the point. If they did, she would appear plastic and inhuman, and that would make him more suspicious.

  No, the best route was the scared one, and it was one she played well. She swallowed, mouth becoming dry by force of her nerves to act, all part of the realistic shell of untruth she'd built around herself.

[Victor Batten]

How sad was it that she actually played human better than he did?  His problem was that he just didn't care, but that didn't change the fact that she was still better at it than he was.  His refusal to put out the effort to make the proper expressions and the appropriate noises had been one of those things that made others call him a 'cold bastard' and plenty of other, more colorful things, but Victor was all about the cool, unbothered facade.  In some cases, that was all it was, a facade, but it was usually just the way he was.  He refused to have something openly phase him more than he desired it to, and even a big deal wasn't going to get nearly enough attention (as far as others were concerned).  He didn't have to make it obvious when he was devoting his thoughts to a problem and when he wasn't.

A good example was right that moment.  He'd cracked the dry joke about Sarah stalking him, and he really had been joking, but that didn't mean he wasn't considering the possibility that she might actually do it.  He was already making notes to take certain precautions in his mind, because the idea of being victimized once again just didn't sit well with him.

"I don't believe you have any reason to worry, Miss Holliday.  Especially on my behalf," he told her smoothly, having trailed along with her when she pulled their little conversation away from the more populated area, and that was mostly because he could go in that direction to get back where he needed to be.  He wasn't going to backtrack just to talk with one of his underlings, or his reputation might really find itself in the mud somewhere. 

He actually DID fix her with a solid, interested look when she was forced so close to him, then asked him if he was seriously joking about the stalking, and he smiled, even if it wasn't one that reached his eyes or even looked all that amused.  That was because there was nothing funny about it, not really.  "I'm not worried about it.  If it becomes a problem, I'll take care of it.  Your concern is touching, though."

[Daphne Holliday]

  It was incredibly sad that she could do it better, but the fact that she couldn't afford to slip up because he didn't care about hiding small aspects of the hunter side of him was heavy on her every time she was in his presence. Daphne was used to the persona enough by now that it was very well a second sort of nature, but there were some functions she had to work to control - things like eye dilation every time she saw blood, for instance. It was a royal pain in her ass, but she'd found a way around every psychotic sort of 'tell' that she had, and the fact that Victor was standing here now talking to her proved it. If he'd have suspected her, he'd have ridden it out until it became opportune to eliminate or evict her.

  She forced a smile every bit as much as his bitter one wasn't, and hers didn't meet her eyes either, but it was more or less because he would know clearly by the worry still there that she wasn't convinced. "I worry because it's what I do," she said when he told her that she had no reason to. "And because I know when something isn't right."

  She paused, and then nodded a little when he told her that her concern was touching. He didn't like the thought of someone giving a damn about him at all, actually, from what she'd gleaned. He could operate just fine on his own without being on someone's mind, and it seemed like he actually preferred it. Daphne had been experimenting with these ideas in small ways, and so far that was her conclusion.

  "Fine," she said. There was another brief pause, and her smile returned, this time matching her eyes. "But you'd better if it does get out of hand. If something happens to you, my next boss will be Carson, and he's a moron. I just wouldn't be able to cope," she added. She laughed a little, more or less because she knew he hated the other doctor. Everyone did, actually - Carson was someone who was beyond his prime and had basically checked out. He walked around and was useless; dictated budget spending more than he did any other real work.

  She glanced down at her watch, and then back up at him. "My shift is officially over. I'm dropping this chart off and going home, if that's clear with you. I think my poor heart has had enough excitement for one night," she said. She smiled, this time more weakly. Daphne had been there since the morning, and while she was more or less wired about the entire ordeal that had just occurred, she knew that logically she should appear a little run down.

[Victor Batten]

It was true that her standing there talking to him meant that she was alright with him.  Yes, he knew that there was something a little 'off' about her, just due to a gut feeling, but he had absolutely nothing to go on, she hadn't dropped any hints that made him think she was responsible for any foul play in the hospital, and she was smart enough that he didn't have to tell her anything twice when he gave her instructions.  Those factors alone encouraged him liking her about as much as he liked anyone he worked with, and more than most of them.  He had trouble tolerating morons.

He also had trouble believing that Daphne didn't have any idea about the supernatural when she made comments like the one about something not being right, but he still couldn't pin anything on her.  It was true that it could just be an instinct, but he couldn't fathom why her instincts would focus themselves on him.  All he could figure was that she cared too much in general, which wasn't one of those problems he had.  He had way too much to deal with without caring about everyone else, what they thought and what happened to them.  He wouldn't put her down for it, though.  Someone was going to do it, so why not her?  Even worse, she cared, so if he put her down for it, her feelings might actually be hurt, and he liked having her on his list of 'dependable' people.

It wasn't like he needed her worrying about him, though.  Her understanding of his opinion on the situation was pretty much on the spot, since he really didn't prefer people caring about him or even thinking about him, which was also why he could be such a jackass to idiots who got in his way at work.  He had the snappiest, most sarcastic remarks for morons in the bunch, and he wouldn't hold back on those, either.  There wasn't much that he found a reason to restrain himself over.

"Believe me, I'll take care of it.  I always have," he assured her, and he meant it.  The only one that had gotten away was one that he wasn't even sure he wanted to 'take care of', just because it had been a fucked up situation.  There were times when your pride had to be tough enough to take a hit, and his had.  He was alright with it, however much it irked him that it had happened.  He'd survived, and that was good enough for him, in the end.  "This hospital would fall apart if Carson took my place, anyway.  Administration is full of idiots, but I doubt even they're stupid enough for that," he drawled, rolling his eyes, then nodding as she declared she was taking off.  He didn't care, not so long as she was doing her job.

"Have a good night, then, Miss Holliday.  Try to avoid our new favorite visitor on your way out," he told her dryly, smirking by the end of it.  He truly did think that the girl was gone, even if he would be careful in the event that she wasn't. 

[Daphne Holliday]

  Daphne's laugh was jovial as she looked over her shoulder at him on her departure. His declaration that he would be able to take care of it had tickled her inner-psycho as well as the surface personality. "Doctor Batten, I think I might be more concerned for her safety now than yours that you mention it," she said. She shook her head and raised a hand to wave as her back turned again and she vanished behind the corner. She dumped her chart at the front office, sat down at the small desk she was allotted, and made notes in her Blackberry about what she needed to do the next day immediately when she got in. She checked her e-mail before leaving, replying for the third time that no, she would not like to accompany one of the other younger and less-take-a-fucking-hint doctors out for any event, any time.

  Her beauty was her burden. The idiots flocked to her. Victor didn't flock; he observed. He appreciated and respected her because he didn't see her trying to advance in any way except with her knowledge and abilities, and she wouldn't ruin her position now because some idiot third year with a Porsche and a hard-on couldn't stop trying to corner her in the hallway. If it kept up, she'd cut his fucking face open.

  As she headed out into the parking garage, everything about her gait changed. The confident, in control nurse faded, giving way to shrugged shoulders with hands buried in pockets. Her eyes were cast downward, as though she were almost afraid to look up and around. She didn't think that the vampire was dumb enough to stick around, but she'd play easy bait just in case. When nothing happened on the meek slink to her car, Daphne got in and left. She was slightly disappointed.

  At least she had work to do when she got home. Amber was in the basement, all ready to know how Jack-o-Lanterns felt. Daphne needed to release some pent-up energy, anyways.