Timebomb

Despite the physical contact that Chase had made with him, and the angry threats that she began to spit in his direction, Paris' cheerful facial expression did not waver. The only variation to his appearance during the redhead’s enraged speech had been a simple movement of his neck, which had put his head at a tilt, as though he was examining a particularly interesting artifact. As Chase’s voice climbed an active, Paris’ eyelids fluttered along with the change in an instinctive reaction to her shouted words. But he did not move from his position; inches in front of Chase with his arms resting against his sides. He was waiting for her to quiet herself; for an opening in the conversation that would allow him to defuse the woman, without speaking over her.

She turned her back to him, and Paris concluded that her pause was his queue to speak once more.

“You aren’t hurt?” he began. He brought his left hand towards the side of his face, so to wipe away the small droplet of spit that had flown from Chase’s lips during her fit, and had landed there. It was only polite to do so while she was facing the other direction and was incapable of making note of his actions. “Have I, at any point this evening, attempted to do you any harm?” Paris was certain of the answer he would receive, and thus he carried after only a second’s pause, “My only intention in following after you was to make certain that you were made aware of the danger that my employer has put you in. You are not my hostage in any way whatsoever; I have kept you out of harm’s way, but that does not make you my captive. You-” Paris motioned lazily towards the back of Chase’s head with his index finger, despite his knowledge that she would not see the gesture“-may leave my side whenever you like.”

He reeled his extended hand back towards himself, and slid each of his hands into the pockets of his ill-fitted jeans absentmindedly.

“You have made it painfully evident that you do not desire my help in any way whatsoever. Go then, Chase Moor; leave my side. If you so desire to get my crime pinned to your back, go on; walk around that corner while the aurors are still tearing the place apart in search of an accomplice.” Paris paused for a brief moment to shake his head disbelievingly. “Open your eyes, child. Your vision has been clouded with false judgment and assumptions. See my actions for what they are, rather than what you wish to see, so to blame me for your misfortune this evening.”

As Paris finished, he was met once more with the fiery eyes of the woman before him. So much hatred glinted within her pupils, that Paris could nearly see a flame dancing within them. In contrast, Perry’s eyes held nothing more than the twinkling of his excitement, if for no other reason than to defy Chase.

He flicked his eyebrows towards his hairline again. “Five minutes. They will have left us alone in five minutes, Chase. Do have patients.”

Chase forced herself to slow her breathing, and she stood there, staring at him. He said she could leave, but she knew that if she did... well, she'd be suddenly a person who was robbing that home, and she stared at him. "You know I can't leave.. unless I want thrown in jail.." She stared at him and then sighed and leaned against a wall, couching down so she was leaning against the wall, crouched on the balls of her feet. "You've got to be kidding me." She whispered, putting her hands over her head and staring at the ground. "Paris... I just want to spend the evening with my family..." She said looking at him. "I have a daughter... and a boyfriend... and a job.. and I'm not prepared to get thrown in jail.. so we'll wait okay? Wait and wait and wait until we can get out of this alleyway, and go home." She said her eyes finding his.

"I handle dangerous creatures.. to heal them... I've handled dangerous criminals... been beat up way more then I feel I should have been, stabbed, beaten, sliced open, cursed, and I know the Cruciatus spell far better then I should.. I've handled a lot... the LAST thing I need is a stint in Azkaban..." She frowned and stood up fully, dusting off her bottom from where it was leaning against the dirty wall. "When do you suppose it'll be okay to head out there and walk normally on my way home? I don't even know where we're at Paris... I just.. I"m tired... and cranky, and I want to go home... please?" She asked, knowing she was begging him now, knowing that she had gotten herself to the point where she didn't care she was begging, because she just wanted to go home.

At once, Paris began to ponder over the possibility that, perhaps he had mistakenly spoken in another language when he’d suggested that Chase remain where she was for the time being, in the alley that the pair had taken shelter in, and wait. It was evident that the statement had gone unheard by the woman. It was only a matter of coming up with an explanation as to how his words had avoided Chase’s ears. What a maddening situation to find oneself in; to be forced to repeatedly explain a particular situation to an unwilling audience. But Paris did not let on to the irritation that was beginning to infect his usually unconcerned and lighthearted thoughts.

Instead, Paris’ face lit up, as though he’d been struck by an epiphany. An epiphany that he had all intentions of sharing with Chase, so to convince her to cease with her rapid fire of complaints. “We are a mere half-mile and a left turn away from the ‘party’. You have said that your home is on the same street? Or near, at least?” The grin that Perry wore widened remarkably.

He proceeded to list off the facts that he had gathered, and was certain would play an important role in his plan, “Three aurors apperated. Precisely three; I would have heard a fourth, or a fifth. That is the trouble with that method of transportation, you see; you give yourself away.” Paris edged towards the corner of the building that obstructed his gaze from the men that he spoke of, and peered down the shadow-infested street.

“It is not difficult to divert the attention of only three pairs of eyes, Chase. It is not difficult at all. Not at this hour of the night, at least,” Paris continued to explain, before abruptly turning his head back towards the woman. He took a step towards her, and offered her the hand that she had so rudely refused when he had originally attempted to introduce himself. But there was an evident difference in the way in which he’d offered her his hand this time. He was bidding her farewell.

“The moment I run, count to thirty. Once you have done so, follow after me. Go home when there is no longer anyone in sight,” he instructed her firmly. He took hold of Chase’s hand, and gave it a formal shake. “It was a pleasure, Chastity Moor. Perhaps we will run into each other in the future, under more forgiving terms than these.” Paris cast a downward glance at the redhead, and smiled encouragingly, “Au revoir.”

It was on this note that Paris spun on the spot, and darted around the corner.

"Bonsoir, messieurs!" His voice could be heard throughout the silent streets as he called to the aurors, along with his hearty laughter, which shortly followed his greeting.

Chase stared at Paris as suddenly he was helping her up, and she carefully took his hand, shaking it firmly as he told her what to do. He was going to distract them or what? She frowned, and then watched as he darted out of the alleyway, and she heard his voice, she heard herself start to count under her breath, very slowly. One... Two... Three... It took a moment before she realized it was time to go, and she slid out of the alleyway, sliding along down the road, and following his instructions. It wasn't long until she realized where she was at, and her footsteps sped up. She could hear people talking, people who weren't just discussing the weather, Chase sped up even quicker, and then looked behind her at the distance she had covered. Her side was hurting, her breathing was coming in short gasps, and she realized she hadn't taken a large breath in over two blocks. She forced herself to calm down, act naturally, and she walked calmly, head bent, walking home from a late night at work.

Someone wolf whistled at her from an alley, and Chase grimaced, before she came out upon her street and she half ran, half jogged to her building entrance. Before she ducked inside however, Chase couldn't help but look around and look for that man she had met. Paris... Paris Radborn.. Well, she would just have to look him up at work the next day... but for now, she had some extremely important quality time with her family that she needed at the moment. After being held against her will with a knife to her throat, and then having to run for her life from aurors, she was exhausted, and simply wanted to go to bed. So Chase pushed her way through the spinning door, and to the elevator, where she caught her breath, and went inside her home, to spend a warm evening in the glow of her family.