[ Peter's body turns rigid at Alec's approach, and he doesn't bother to turn when he hears his voice. Takes deep breath after deep breath instead (or at least, as deep as his growing anxiety might allow), before pushing off from the table.
It says quite a lot, too, that he doesn't bristle when Alec uses the wrong call sign – he's already practically puffed up like a porcupine; nowhere else to go from there – but he says a lot more that he doesn't correct him. Hell must have frozen over tonight.
He moves away from the table, slams the control for the bay door with the meat of his fist. The doors part, and sure enough, their ride – a sleek black aircar – idles in front of them.
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It says quite a lot, too, that he doesn't bristle when Alec uses the wrong call sign – he's already practically puffed up like a porcupine; nowhere else to go from there – but he says a lot more that he doesn't correct him. Hell must have frozen over tonight.
He moves away from the table, slams the control for the bay door with the meat of his fist. The doors part, and sure enough, their ride – a sleek black aircar – idles in front of them.
Without turning, he growls, ]
Let's just get this fucking over with.