[ By the time Ian's done with the stand, Mace thinks he's got a pretty good idea where he's heading with all this, and the amusement comes easier to him now. It's in his eyes as he watches Ian go about adding soup to the newly-born metal bowl, softened at the edges with fondness.
But Mace is a simple guy and as far as he's concerned, all of these emotions narrow down to just the one — affection, simple and clean like rain on fresh leaves.
Whether it's an intense result of the crucible they're in, or just that instinctive, magnetic liking he's felt a few rare times in his life, it doesn't matter. It's there, and he doesn't need to examine it to make sure, and because he's as fixed in his ways as the stars in the sky, it's gonna stay there.
Split it.
Done with a faint smile and an eyebrow raise, although it's on the tip of Mace's tongue to ask his friendly neighbourhood Batman if he plans to do this fifty-fifty business with everything else; and if so, is he aware that Mace isn't the one with the horrible injury here?
But then Ian's saying something else, something more, and — ]
Was. [ Another one, and Mace's smile twists into something a little sadder. He can count the amount of people who've seen that expression on one hand, and still have a finger left over to give their kidnappers the only form of greeting they deserve.
But he hasn't forgotten how Ian's been laid bare to him here, a forced vulnerability that went beyond the physical, and there's some part of him that wants to even that playing field. Out of respect, and out of that same uncomplicated fondness that's taken firm root in his chest, and maybe just the plain human desire to share something with somebody.
Somebody who's made him feel more like a person than he's felt since he stepped foot in the Icarus II. ]
And it wasn't, you know, mutual. If anything, it was ... more the opposite.
[ Hard to admit loving somebody who'd said the kind of things Cassie had to him, and it's only after this incredible display of dignity that Mace realizes he hasn't even answered Ian's question. ]
no subject
But Mace is a simple guy and as far as he's concerned, all of these emotions narrow down to just the one — affection, simple and clean like rain on fresh leaves.
Whether it's an intense result of the crucible they're in, or just that instinctive, magnetic liking he's felt a few rare times in his life, it doesn't matter. It's there, and he doesn't need to examine it to make sure, and because he's as fixed in his ways as the stars in the sky, it's gonna stay there.
Split it.
Done with a faint smile and an eyebrow raise, although it's on the tip of Mace's tongue to ask his friendly neighbourhood Batman if he plans to do this fifty-fifty business with everything else; and if so, is he aware that Mace isn't the one with the horrible injury here?
But then Ian's saying something else, something more, and — ]
Was. [ Another one, and Mace's smile twists into something a little sadder. He can count the amount of people who've seen that expression on one hand, and still have a finger left over to give their kidnappers the only form of greeting they deserve.
But he hasn't forgotten how Ian's been laid bare to him here, a forced vulnerability that went beyond the physical, and there's some part of him that wants to even that playing field. Out of respect, and out of that same uncomplicated fondness that's taken firm root in his chest, and maybe just the plain human desire to share something with somebody.
Somebody who's made him feel more like a person than he's felt since he stepped foot in the Icarus II. ]
And it wasn't, you know, mutual. If anything, it was ... more the opposite.
[ Hard to admit loving somebody who'd said the kind of things Cassie had to him, and it's only after this incredible display of dignity that Mace realizes he hasn't even answered Ian's question. ]
Cassie.