"Commander Zavala mentioned I might find you here."
The Young Wolf's head snaps up from the datapad she's reading and Lord Shaxx enjoys the smile that breaks across her lips in an instant. She pushes off Zavala's desk where she's perched and the 'pad is left unceremoniously on a stack of others. She crosses the room with a few rapid strides and an eager sort of spring in her step that warms the Titan's heart. Reunions between them are always long awaited and one of the few things Shaxx looks forward to. She's within arm's reach in an instant and he is all too happy to sweep her up into a fierce embrace, "Hello, dearest."
She squeezes his neck in response and he clutches her a bit tighter. The last few weeks have dragged on and time felt as if it were at a standstill while he waited for any word of her mission on the Moon. He is slow to allow her to recoil when he finally sets her back on her feet. His hand lifts, cradling her cheek with a tenderness they both know holds something more. Rough leather brushes along a scar etched along her cheek and he has to force himself not to pull her back into his arms. He has missed her and he intends for her to know it but he does not want to suffocate her. His hand falls away and takes her hand instead.
The contact is calming. Although there is a barrier, her touch grounds him.
It's only when her Ghost appears at her side and speaks that Shaxx can drag his eyes away from hers.
"What brings you by?" The Little Light questions.
"Well, someone promised me a Crucible match this afternoon," his head tilts sternly though his voice holds no shortage of amusement. "That was two hours ago."
Her eyes widen as her head snaps to look at the clock. The time registers and her whole frame deflates; shoulders sagging, features falling. It takes a moment but she drags her gaze back up to his helm with an apologetic look, "I'm sorry. I lost track of time."
He can hear the regret and remorse in her voice - that isn't what he intended to get out of her. He quickly steps closer, cradling her face, "It's alright, I was only teasing. Don't--" he hesitates a beat, "You don't have to apologize. Zavala told me what you're looking into. It's alright."
She summons a slight smile and inclines her head into his touch yet he can read the apologetic glint in her eyes all the same.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" He opts to redirect, try to assure her he doesn't mind by way of her informing him what she's uncovered.
"Unless you've got experience with Hive ceremonies," Ghost sighs, "don't think so. We're still not sure what we saw in that cave."
"I'm afraid I have more experience with Fallen and Cabal traditions." The Warlord returns and his Warlock pats his chest reassuringly. The contact serves its purpose and he gently squeezes her hand.
They gaze at one another for a weighted moment before the Guardian pulls away and moves over to the desk to shut off the data pad.
"What are you doing?" He asks, confusion slipping into his voice as she crosses the room back to his side.
"You were promised a match," she slips her hand into his once more. "I believe we've delayed long enough."
He straightens slightly, "You needn't--"
"I need a break, Shaxx," she interrupts with a sort of pleading warmth in her eyes, "Those files will still be here when I return."
This is true. Pulling her away for a while, giving her a chance to process everything she's read for the last few hours - it's a good idea. He hadn't intended to interrupt, but in this case, it works in both of their favors.
His frame relaxes with a nod, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze as he speaks, "Very well, Warlock, if you insist."
---‐---------------
Shaxx's back collides with the stone pillar behind him and he lets out a grunt of pain. She lunges then, her sword igniting with Solar energy and Shaxx summons his hammer.
He barely has a moment to lift it to block before her blade comes down, locked against the flaming handle of his hammer.
Shaxx lets out a hearty laugh, "When you said you needed a break, I didn't imagine it would come with this much ferocity, Guardian."
Her head tilts with a light sort of playfulness and the pressure against his hammer eases a fraction. He could try and distract her, get the upper hand that way but he quite likes the idea of dragging this battle out.
After all, it isn't often his Warlock pins him.
"You're stronger than this, Warlock. Prove it," he goads, pushing back against the sword as he regains his footing.
It startles her. Her fingers curl tighter around the hilt of her sword and the Solar energy flares.
He needs to break the hold. He braces a boot against the pillar behind him and uses it to propel himself forward, forcing his Warlock to stumble back. He lunges again with a swing of his hammer and she surges from the ground, up and back and well out of his reach.
He throws up a barrier just as she hurls a Solar wave, the barrier shattering but it buys him enough time to slam the head of his hammer onto the ground, sending forth a burst of flames that rocket skyward.
She isn't high enough to evade and her sword vanishes as she tries to block. Her Ghost rezzes her on the ground and she straightens up, a subtle shudder running the length of her spine and she tries to shake it off. Clearly, that one hurt. She squares her shoulders in an instant and adjusts her footing into a defensive stance. Her hands lift cautiously in preparation, the brilliant vermillion reflecting off her visor from the lights along her gloves.
Shaxx's hammer vanishes between his fingers as he strides toward her. He takes a moment to gaze up toward the scoreboard and to his surprise, they're tied. He had a few more swings left but he wants them on even ground for this final round.
He rolls his shoulders, pacing back and forth in front of her. She chances a step closer to try and prod him into attacking but he's enjoying himself far too much to take such obvious bait.
"Forcing me to go on the offensive, are you?" He chuckles.
She offers a slight shrug, her hands lowering slightly. He meanders a bit closer, keeping his stride relaxed and almost aimless. He can read her confusion, the subtle tilt of her head as she tries to piece together exactly what he's doing.
He intends to get close enough to touch her without raising any alarm. It's uncharacteristic for him, he recognizes that but that’s why it's a good approach. She'd never anticipate it.
Unless this time she has?
When he's within two steps of her, she retreats a step, raising her hands again but he holds his out on either side of him.
She looks unsettled, glancing between either hand before settling back on his helmet. He gestures her forward a step and she's slow to take it as if this were a trap and she'd be stepping into it. It's cautious, tentative. Almost like she's ready to spring back at the first sign of trouble.
If this were anyone but him, she wouldn't be standing this close without putting up a fight.
Thankfully, it's him.
Admittedly, this tactic may be less about getting an advantage and more so that he wants to touch her. The shudder she'd tried to shake off had struck with him more than he thought it would. He needs a moment to collect himself, to ensure she's alright. His hand settles along her tricep and she looks down at it.
"Shaxx?" She says his name with a degree of confusion as she gazes back up at him.
"Yes?" He takes half a step closer, his other hand finding purchase on her waist.
"Are we still--?"
"Yes." His helmet lowers against hers, clinking metal together in a show of affection that allows her to relax a bit.
"Doesn't seem that way," she murmurs, gloved fingers splayed against his chestplate.
"A respite will do us both good." He returns, his voice low and gentle.
She doesn't argue. She angles her head slightly for her own comfort as she presses closer to him. His hand along her tricep drifts up, tracing over the intricate threads of fabric until it settles between her shoulder blades.
All the while, her hands track upward, her arms lock around his neck and the next moment, he's holding her tightly in an embrace.
"Could just call it a tie?" Ghost suggests over the comms and the remark draws a soft laugh from both Warlord and Warlock alike.
"Now where is the honor in that?" He squeezes her gently and she responds with a noncommittal hum.
"You could always yield this battle?" He teases and her head jerks back.
There she is. His daybreak. His dawn. His fierce Warlock.
Her pride would never allow her to do that - not to mention he's certain Ikora might have something to say about forfeiting a match for the sake of cuddles.
"You first," she juts her chin up and he can't quite contain his laugh.
"Never."
"Then the match isn't finished."
"So it isn't," he starts to release her. Even through her visor, he swears he can see the reluctance in her eyes. Or perhaps it's just how tightly she clings to him before slowly recoiling. He believes he hears a grumble or two from her as she steps back.
"Shall we pick up where we left off?"
She tilts her head, seeming to weigh the options before nodding.
"Very well," he casts his gaze up toward the board once more. He starts to say something else before cutting himself short and blocking a blow from his Warlock.
No warning. It's exactly as if they hadn't taken a few minutes to themselves. She's ready to finish this.
Lord Shaxx counters the next few blows, managing to drive her back enough to get his footing. A grin breaks across his features beneath his helmet and it finds its way into his voice as he speaks, "You're always so pleasantly vicious, Guardian. It's a delight."
She gives a quick head tilt of acknowledgement before attacking again.
They trade blows for a while. An elegant dance of evasion and contact that leaves a spark of Solar behind with each impact and footstep. It whirls around them like a sort of breeze; wafting and diving and alighting along robes and mark alike. The arena ignites with gold and crimson yet their focus holds.
It's a battle of endurance. Both are well suited but Shaxx is more enthralled by the movements than actively trying to put an end to it. His mind lingers on her, but not as an adversary - as an equal. He enjoys battle and his Warlock is among the few who can beat him. It's a thrill, actually. To be able to spend so much time in an arena with the only Guardian he's come to love at his side.
And while he thrives in moments like these, he knows she doesn't relish combat as he does, but she indulges him all the same. Because when all is said and done, they return to their home and she curls up at his side and he regales her with histories of the Dark Age - something she truly enjoys.
The Young Wolf breaks him from his trance with a sharp kick to his side. He stumbles back, she darts heavenward and he doesn't have a chance to defend himself.
That isn't what he expected her to finish with.
A Phoenix dive is...well, overkill after his super ran out. But he loves that she used it all the same. No hesitation, just impact.
He sits up slowly, shaking his head to clear away the post-rez daze. He hears her footsteps off to his left and then she's kneeling beside him, laying her hand on his shoulder.
"Impressive finish, Guardian," he chuckles softly, gazing over at her as he leans back, his hands planted on the ground to keep him upright.
Her head tilts and angles as if she were scanning him for any injuries. There aren't any, obviously, but she seems slightly concerned all the same. Shaxx sits up the remainder of the way, taking a moment to note the contact. Her touch is firm yet gentle, a soothing source against the faint whisper of pain over nerves. The Warlord smiles and places his hand over hers, "I believe you won the match."
She looks up toward the board, her frame shifting to a slightly more upright position as if proud of herself. He's certainly proud of her.
"Well done." He squeezes her hand before gently tugging her into his lap. She seems caught off guard, the way her frame tenses but she doesn't push him away nor does she argue.
She just gives an appreciative yet shy nod and settles in.
It's been awhile since they've been alone. She's forever rushing off for the Vanguard, preventing cataclysmic events. Sometimes he wishes he could go with her, fight outright as he used to. But the Vanguard has need of a New Light trainer and there isn't a doubt in his mind she'd ask him to accompany her should she ever feel need of his aid.
"Nothing to say, Guardian?" He teases gently and she winds an arm around his neck. The hand he's holding squeezes and he smiles when she lifts her head.
"Nothing of importance, Shaxx." She returns gently.
"You're sure?" He lowers his head, her arm recoils and she traces along the underside of his helmet.
She doesn't answer though. They're caught in a sort of trance that Shaxx isn't sure he wants to break.
But there are pressing matters awaiting them both following this match. As much as he'd prefer to sweep her away to their home and keep her close for the remainder of the evening, she has research to conduct.
Of course, he could stay with her. He could try and help or at the very least, keep her company in Zavala's office.
The Crucible, for once, can wait.
He wants to be at her side for a while - just for tonight.
"We should get back. You have some research to conduct."
Her shoulders sag and with them, her head drops against his chest.
Seems she echoes his sentiment.
"...or, we call it an early night. I'll make dinner and keep you all to myself." He offers with a playful edge in his voice.
"I prefer that option," she returns, lifting her head and her whole body seems to ignite with a sort of happy flare of Light.
"Second option, it is." He clinks his helmet against hers.
As they disentangle and find their way to their feet, Shaxx can't help the surge of euphoria.
If only for tonight, they can take some time to themselves. If only for tonight, he can keep her close and bask in her company.
For tonight, the world can wait.
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