gone_byebye | (no subject)

(no subject)

Ray trundles down the stairs from his room; he's got his proton pack on over his winter civvy jacket, and he's carrying another. There are a few pairs of black heavy gloves sticking out of his pocket and there's a plastic sack dangling from one arm. "Right this way, Miss Lehane, right this way..."

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Faith salutes and follows gleefully, bouncing on her toes.

"Andrew's gonna have a fit when I tell him about this."

Ray grins and hands over the gloves and pack. "Yeah, well, what is this place for if not increasing the overall memetic diversity of ways to make things go 'oh no run away'? C'mon, get that on and I'll power you up- I'll put up the targets in the meantime. Don't touch the green knob on the upper left hand side, that's the Anakin latch."

Faith pulls the gloves and pack on, careful not to touch the knob.

It's possible she's having a fangirl moment. Ssssh.

"This doesn't feel like forty pounds."

Slayer strength, baby.

One of the reasons Ray keeps coming back to Milliways is that, no matter how many people mistake him for an exterminator back home, he knows he can always find somebody here who appreciates his work.

"I did my best to distribute it evenly, but you can only do so much when you've got that kind of cladding to build in. Now hold still."

He rests a fingertip against the scanner panel in the middle of the back. After a moment the LED winks at him, and he flips a small, half-concealed switch.

Chinnnnnnnng goes the pack as it powers up.

Faith obeys.

She is being obedient.

People should strap dangerous objects to her body more often, it makes her docile.

"So, this thing doesn't have, like, sexual side effects, does it?"

...OK, docile-ish.

"Aside from aching in the pectoral muscles because it keeps pulling your shoulders back, no," Ray says. "All of us wanted to at least retain the option to reproduce, so I made sure to build in as much shielding as I could. We haven't got any long-term data on its use in women, but Janine's never objected to it the times she's had to wear one herself."

"OK. And I'm not exactly a normal human anyway, so I guess I should be fine."

Faith grins at him. "So when do I get to fry things?"

Ray pulls a large foam object out of the plastic bag. "Soon as I get these set up. It was this or the skeet shooting rig Agent Rho got. Gimme a sec, okay?"

He starts aligning the targets at what looks like around fifteen or twenty yards.

"Okay. Two things to remember about the pack: first, that it only fires as long as your thumb is on that switch towards the business end, and two, the thrower, which is the part you hold in your hands, kicks like a wounded mule. I'm sure you're strong enough to handle it but you need to be aware that it's going to try and get away from you..."

"Right. Keep my thumb on the switch, don't let it run away."

Faith nods, watching him line up the targets.

"Maybe when I get really good we can try it blindfolded. That's always fun."

Ray twitches at the thought. "I'm not sure I trust my technology that far," he mutters, and sets up the last target. He jogs back over to stand beside Faith, pulling his own gloves on. "Okay, now. Sighting isn't really all that good on these, but there's a mark in the top of the last segment of the proton thrower that usually does a good job as an alignment pin. Line 'em up, get a good grip, and let 'er rip!"

"Spoilsport."

Faith pouts at him briefly, then follows his instructions and lets 'er rip.

The kick is pretty strong, but she's stronger.

Zap.

Ray grins as the proton beam rips into the target. Bits of blackened foam spew everywhere, flaming briefly and dying as little charred embers before they hit the ground. The target itself- what remains of it- makes a very impressive if horribly synthetic-smelling flame. "Nice shot!" Ray calls.

Faith whoops in reply.

"This thing is great!"

She knows what she wants for Christmas now.

"Isn't it, though?" Ray smiles fondly as he unhooks his. "And that was only on quarter stream. The foam doesn't need much more provocation to explode. This is what you get when it's cranked up to about eight or so..."

He fires. Target? What target? There's a smoking hole...

Faith jawdrops.

And stares.

"...Ray, if I wasn't taken, I would have my way with you right here."

Ray lifts his thumb from the switch.

"Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but I'm taken too," he says. "Glad you approve, though."

"It's great."

Faith is beaming.

"Thanks for letting me have a go."

"Any time," Ray says. "If the need and the situation both arise in the fight, you might as well have an idea of what to expect from the thing, you know?"

Faith nods.

"Nothing I can't handle."

Slayer mighty. Rar!

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