Sparring session for Nick

[1stmacleod]

For some reason, Connor never expected the holidays to be this hard. Thanksgiving passed by without much notice, he's never really celebrated that, but Christmas has had him on a private roller coaster. One minute he's blissfully happy to have a home and a woman he's in love with who loves him back, even knowing the truth of what he is, the next minute he's remembering holidays with John and Rachel and even Brenda and he just wants to go bury himself in a dark corner with a bottle of whiskey. All the scotch he's been given as gifts is going at a distressing rate. It's not even New Year's yet, and then it'll be his birthday soon after that, which he just hopes nobody will notice at all...

Just a few days after, and he's pacing, resisting the urge to crack open the next bottle. He needs a distraction. He needs to get out. He needs something to do.

The message that comes on Nick's pinpoint is typical Connor, brief and brusque and to the point.
Want to spar?
There's coordinates attached, and he's got the sense to have picked somewhere it's night. Connor's waiting in a grassy field on a quiet world he ran across in a Nexus guidebook. There's an almost full moon that gives him enough light to see by, and it's not the dead of winter, here, so he can stand around in t-shirt and jeans and sneakers without freezing his ass off. He swings the katana slowly, working his way through kata. There's a couple of rapiers and a western broadsword on the ground nearby... and a bottle of scotch, because his willpower gave out already.

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[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

Nick turns his shoulder to Connor, walking back over to the weapons and setting his down. He rubs at the palm of his hands again, a bit nervous as he keeps his distance from Connor. He may not have a blade in hand, but Connor knows he's fast enough to still be a threat, if he chooses to see it that way.

"Sorry."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

When Nick walks away, Connor lets out a very quiet breath, and forces himself to relax a little. He can recognize an accident, probably more on his part than Nick's. Connor rolls his neck and shoulders with a quiet popping sound. "You want me to pay your tailoring bill?" All that's hurt in the end is his shirt, after all.

[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

"Hm?" Nick was not expecting that remark from Connor and then smiles. "Oh. It's nothing I can't fix." He sits down where he is, looking calm enough.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

"That's always the trouble with real fights. After you've managed to survive, you still have to get away and find a change of clothes and wash the blood off..." He follows, now that Nick's sat down, katana pointed toward the ground. There's still something wary about the way he moves, but he drops in a crouch facing Nick, taking the chance to relax and catch his breath again.

[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

Nick can't blame him for the wariness, though how much he should attribute it to tonight's events, he's not entirely certain.

"Cover up the fact that something had happened..."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

Partly it's just Connor's default. He has trouble relaxing around people until he knows them very well. He settles though and reaches for the bottle again, laying the katana at his side, and still in easy reach. "And that's not counting the dealing with the body part..."

[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

"It's certainly harder." Nick looks down at the ground, pulling gently on some grass, but not picking it. "In a way, I'm glad for it. Vampires are less likely to kill; but it doesn't stop them. It does complicate things though, when the victims show up and we have to deal with the damage control."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

Connor considers this, and takes a swig of scotch while he does. That's probably not great for clear-headed thinking, but he's got a high tolerance thanks to immortal healing ability. A gulp here and there between rounds isn't enough to get him drunk.

"There's... no victim, in a fair immortal fight. Just a winner and a loser."

[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

"I imagine the aftermath isn't any easier to deal with. People always ask questions when bodies show up." Nick looks up as Connor takes a swig, and then averts his eyes.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

"...or heads." He's already had to tell Nick that the neck is off limits, so he figures that secret is pretty much out of the bag.

[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

"Or heads." Nick nods and gives a tired sigh. "I really don't like those calls."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

Connor grimaces, and it's not the scotch. "I... have a bad history with the cops..."

[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

"My record isn't great either." Nick's eyebrows raise, it's about the most encouraging expression he can summon, considering the conversation.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

Connor lifts an eyebrow briefly. "...Yeah? But you are a cop. If anybody should know his way around them..."

[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

"You'd think so, but I have to worry about Internal Investigations while I'm doing whatever it is that needs to be done." Nick rubs at his forehead, as if just the thought gives him a headache.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

Connor rolls his eyes and smirks faintly. "Here I was going to ask you for advice..." There's sympathy in his expression, but sarcastic jokes come easier to him than gentle words.

[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

Nick manages a small smile at Connor's humor. He appreciates it, at least.

"I think I'd only be repeating what you know already, anyway."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

Good thing, because Connor is a snarky bastard to people when he likes them.

"Yeah, well, I always have trouble with the most important rule."

[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

"Don't get caught?" Nick gives a short, amused chuckle. "It's also the hardest rule. Even if you haven't done anything."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

He gives another chuckle over that. "I meant 'don't lose your temper'. I've never really been caught red-handed," He pauses to grimace over that choice of words, "But it's come close a few times."

[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

Nick guiltily averts his eyes at the choice of words Connor uses.

"Don't lose your temper." He muses to himself a moment. He's certainly guilty of that on more than one occasion. Though, having it tied in to his desire for blood probably hasn't been much help. "I'll have to add that to my list of things to work on."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

"You learn any tricks to that, let me know?" Connor's got a naturally short fuse, but that's not much of an excuse.

[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

"Likewise." Nick stretches again, feeling uncomfortable as his mind wanders back to Nat, and what she's put up with when it comes to his temper.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

Connor takes a few healthy gulps of scotch, rocks on his heels, and stretches slowly. First one arm, then the other, shoulders popping and rolling. He always carries tension in his neck and shoulders, and he's tensed up there now, and wants to work that out before the next round. He looks a little tired, though. "I trained... under an immortal in Japan, older than me, older than you I'll bet, maybe older than both of us put together. He must've taught me every trick there is for focus, control, letting go of your anger and staying calm..." Obviously it didn't stick, is what he's getting at.

[det-debrabant.livejournal.com]

"It's a fine art." Certainly a skill he's been taught in the opposite. He's tried learning what he can to undo that, but he knows what Connor means when some lessons just don't seem to work.