more bob dylan; STORM FRONT part 1

[somerset]

where: in the city / when: at night / what: too much rain.

" some people feel the rain
other people just get wet. "

Comments

[paired]

[ Not knowing for sure what thoughts are running through his partner's mind, Morgan's attention is sharp and focused on the mechanics of the situation instead. He hasn't forgotten the fight the female had put up but there are more important things to pay attention to now that she's safely restrained and out of the equation. Blake's safety and the transference of the suspect from pavement to car in an orderly and controlled fashion must be paramount.

He can see Blake has the suspect held fast and the man seems to be willing to adhere to any and all instructions he's given, so he moves in closer and produces the standard issue restraints. These are Danny's, his own binding the female suspect's hands firmly where she sits locked away in the car. ]

I'm going to put these restraints on you now. Don't struggle or he will bite you harder.

[ He presses a knee to the man's lower back to add some additional support for Blake and reaches up for his left arm. Guiding it smoothly behind his back before he does the same for his other arm,he finally presses the man's wrists together in preparation. The restraints are expertly applied and only then does he feel as though the situation is now definitely under their control. ]

I'm going to tell him to release his hold now. I advise you to keep very still and stay exactly where you are until I tell you otherwise.

Blake, release.

[hellyeah]

[ Of course, Blake complies. There isn't a fibre in his being that would allow him not to; every inch of him is trained to do exactly as Morgan directs. His jaws slacken as he back pedals away from the suspect and the man on the floor groans at the release of pressure, visibly relieved now that the clamping pain had been finally ordered away.

With the smell of the curse still up in his nose - distant now, watered down by the rain - Blake's first instinct is to immediately turn to Morgan. He winds his way around the suspect's prone body and briefly noses at the side of the other man's face as Morgan kneels in the rain. There's a brief snuffling inhale against Morgan's ear - rain, sweat, cologne and shampoo, but no thick stench of blood or acrid tang of curse magic. Morgan was fine and, apparently satisfied, Blake turns his attention back on warily watching the suspect.

Except then - then there's another brief scent in the air. Blake's attention is caught and his head whips around, nose flared and ears perked. The bag - the bag had been discarded out there, somewhere. Blake springs away again and bounds off with his nose to the floor - heedless of the puddles that littered the pavement - and issues a brief, sharp bark when he finally locates it. He won't pick it up (he remembers not to do that much, what with knives and needles and all manner of spellcraft instruments that could be contained within it) but watches Morgan and the suspect intently until they join him. ]