Bared to You- Closed RP
Aeron looked over it all one more time, checking, double-checking, triple-checking the list that he'd written out one old code or another he'd picked up during one of his many previous jobs. Sushi, check. Expensive sparkling cider stolen liberated borrowed from someone somewhere, check. That one animated television show that she'd always wanted to watch, but never could find a copy of, check. Well, as long as she didn't ask how he got his hands on it. Breaking into a company in Japan was not exactly legal. Moving on, he checked the other points. Body pillows, weird fluffy blankets, odd-smelling candles that she liked, wallpaper just redone in her favorite color(s), and a rather major enchantment in the apartment to give it a Tardis-like effect (which he still didn't understand, but Pallin had insisted that 'It'd be fuckawesome, daddy, do it do it DO IT'), all check.
He inspected himself, as well. Gone was his normal military and patrol attire. Gone were the yataghan, the pistol, the extra rounds of enchanted ammo, the grenades, the pockets, and the armor. Instead, he was in some odd modern clothing (again, Pallin had picked it out for him, insisting that this was what would 'Make Olga hot for him'), though he had kept a tie (against Pallin's complaints) and business shirt-esque combo on underneath it all, and refused to take off the combat gloves he'd used during the last campaign he'd served in. He'd sent off his child on a long, very much pointless mission, calling it her training review (which it technically was) to meet with an old Spetsnaz GRU friend of his, so there'd be no interference. At least not until the deed was done. His former comrade was admittedly a Selkie, so she'd probably be dragged back to his fecking apartment eventually. For now though, everything was set.
This was a good thing, because as he checked his watch again, she was to be at the apartment any moment. He had served in countless wars, mastered most every weapon he'd ever touched, been shot, stabbed, had killed hundreds, if not thousands of men in his lifetime.
He'd never been more scared than he was now, with that little box perched so out of the way on a body pillow.
