see the devil living in those eyes

Spencer was, if nothing else, the man of the most inopportune timings, she must know that by now. He was the master of mistiming and misspeaking, which yes he is aware of the irony behind that considering he was the face of their business like 90% of the time. That just seemed how things went between these two, however. They always engaged in some dangerous dance that no one knew the steps of, always twisting and spinning and turning and circling one another with a sharp word or barbed gesture as they separated only to return. At this point, it was debatable whether it would be more appropriate to compare it like a drug addict seeking a high or perhaps more like a twisted gravitational pull they chose not to escape.

Askaree had made a request of him in her way. She had. The problem was she made a request he could not complete. He could not even entertain a vague inkling of completing that request; it was simply beyond him. Hell, by all reality it should be a task beyond near everyone. He had no problem bending the rules of the natural order of things, he did so with his potions and plants all the time, but he could not play at being God and break that order. The fallout from that had the potential to be... disastrous. Still, he knew the answer would not be to her liking.

The desperate never liked being let down.

He held her glare steadily, clenching his jaw so tight he was almost certain he could hear his teeth cracking from the pressure. Maybe that was just his nerves. Oh, no, that was definitely his nerves when he saw that forbidden moisture dance on the edges of her eyes. His eyes darted from her when he felt the air practically crackle and brim with energy, brow furrowing slightly. This was... new. He hadn't been aware she could do such a thing. He would have to remember this little detail for later in case he had the urge to push her limits once again. While Spencer doubted he would, she did seem to bring out this foolish habit of push and pull. Fucking awful.

The accented voice interrupted the thoughts, the tension, redirecting all that energy into something almost tame from the furious woman. No, tame was wrong. Contained. Her energy and fury was momentarily contained by the stranger's voice. Spencer glanced toward her eyes, reading the animosity that blazed in them, before shifting out of her way as he didn't feel like testing again how tightly 'contained' that fury was. Hell, maybe he should find a way to prolong the wretched man's life if just to hold her at bay for a few hours more. It wouldn't be an enjoyable period of time for the old man, that much he knew, but it may delay Spencer's skin from being flayed off him and he was nothing if not about his own survival. Or at least that's what he kept telling himself and yet....

Spencer monitored their interaction from his peripheral as he straightened his shirt into some resemblance of "I wasn't just being threatened ten seconds ago" that he could manage. No need to give the tittering nurses more to gossip about than this bizarre enough arrangement. When their attention turned to Spencer, he looked their way and was a little surprised that the old man addressed him directly. Spencer walked over, eyes studying the elder's face and, for the most part, ignoring the continued venom pouring from Askaree. Spencer opened his mouth before closing it, trapping the unasked question behind the click of teeth. No, he would not question this man's resolve, his readiness or acceptance. He had obviously weighed the options and decided so Spencer would not do him the indignity of 'double-checking'.

"All right." He acknowledged with a small nod before glancing toward Askaree just for the briefest of moments. He half expected her to lunge at him for daring to agree. Maybe he should make her leave the room. That was a laugh; she wasn't going to go anywhere and the mere thought of asking her to would likely have his head removed from his shoulders or heart from its ribcage. No, he would simply quickly outline what he would need to do - a quick touch to the old man's forearm, a jolt of magic seeking, sensing, searching, evaluating - and then a quick matter of administering his "Harry Potter" through a glass of water. Over all it was very mundane and uneventful, aside from the way Spencer's magic crackled to life under his skin as he quietly pushed the medication - it felt wrong calling this poison as poison implied murder - as it flowed, encouraging it along more swiftly and powerfully than it would naturally be.

Quick(ish), painless, quiet - a gift Spencer didn't give to most of his 'patients'. "Five minutes, no more than ten." Maybe he ought to step out of the room should Askaree wish for a chance to bid her farewells. He had no idea. He didn't do quiet passings, not like this. Not for the first time today he was regretting his choices.

single | warlock | notes: