Push the Limits [Larae/Mace]

for what it's worth, I always aim to please
but I nearly died

Mace had kept the necklace and for the first night worked out exactly what he would say to Larae, if she found him on their grounds again. He'd threaten her, and make sure she understood how dangerous it was to be on his land. But then after a good nights rest and another day wrangling cattle, Mace had forgotten all about it. He kept the necklace in a pocket of his pants, wore them day in and day out without remembering it, except when he went to fish out some feed or he happened to lean against it while in the barn.

He hadn't even really worked out what it was. Didn't matter, the more he thought about it that first night. Just that it was important to her. And so he kept it, even though he really considered tying it around a rock and letting sink to the bottom of the algae-infested pond. But then it wouldn't do him any good there. So it rode around with him, becoming his companion, knowing that it connected him to the illegal hunter.

And it wasn't too surprising that she showed up to claim it. Mace was, as usual, poking the cattle in their hind quarters, encouraging them to get a move on, when he spotted her along the fence line. He sighed, wishing he had brought his whip for the day, but the cattle prod would have to suffice. Mace made a big show of going around the herd the long way to get to her, taking his sweet time. He felt the small weight of the necklace in the pocket of his khakis, knew that she'd come for it this time, and not to steal.

But she had dropped it, and that made it rightfully his. He intended to tell her this, until he got close enough that he should have been to able to see her whites of her eyes. But he couldn't, so much was the hate written over them and her entire face. He'd seen that look before, but never on someone else, just in the pond's reflection.

Mace tightened his grip on the prod as he stopped some two yards away from her, on the other side of the wood fence. "Miss me?" And his grin was just as dead as his eyes.

for what it's worth, I always aim to please
but I nearly died

"I'm not a thief." Mace snarled at the accusation, coming a step closer to her. He had intended to maintain a distance between them, even with the fence, but she had a way of provoking the worst in him. He wasn't look for a slow and painful death, though, and anyone with half, maybe even a quarter of a brain, would have brought weapons to a showdown. Not that he'd thought to keep his whip close, and it would've been much better than the prod in this particular situation.

Then again, maybe he should get closer. He took another step. "You dropped it, and now it's fair game. That's just the way it works." He emphasized his words with his left hand, pushing it down towards the earth for emphasis. "And if you really wanted it back you'd have asked nicely, like an adult, instead of some snotty child whose lost her dolly."

He was much closer to the fence now, perhaps only a yard beyond its reach. He hadn't really meant to continue forward, but he felt compelled. He couldn't throw the prod accurately, anyhow, and truly all he wanted was to wrap his hands around her neck and give her a good shake. "So, ask nice."

for what it's worth, I always aim to please
but I nearly died

Mace stood only two feet from the fence now, aching to leap over it. It was the first time they had met, though, when he didn't smell of something terrible, like a full day's work or a dunk in the pond. Instead he just rather smelled like himself - musky, perhaps a little bit like cows, and a lot like the summer sunshine. His shirt hung, unbuttoned to his waist, and layer of sweat making it stick in places. It wasn't really worth buttoning when the day's heat threatened to drag him from his work. Besides which, he hardly interacted with any other people in the course of a typical day, and oh how he wished this day had been typical.

The sarcasm overlaid the etiquette, further setting his teeth on edge. But then, he was used to working with children, and he had only told her to ask nicely, not to mean it. Turns out that five year olds were on the same level as the thief. Mace reached into his pocket, gripped the warm metal, and then with one fluid motion tossed it underhand to her, over the fence.

"Now get, before I change my mind." He'd changed it so much already when considering what to do about her. It was exhausting, and Mace didn't like games. Didn't like people, really. He was very much over it, and he had work to do.

for what it's worth, I always aim to please
but I nearly died

He ignored her. He wanted to ignore her anyhow, as he stalked back to the cattle. They read her a lot better than she did, clearly. But the herd knew exactly what sort of damage he could inflict with the prod. The cows closest to him shied away, pushing the herd towards the northern fence. That actually worked in Mace's favor, so he did nothing to calm his mood. Just walked, sweeping the prod in front of him, whacking down the few weeds that hadn't been trampled.

Of course he couldn't really ignore her, since she was making a ton of racket and the only other thing making any noise was the cows. "Comes naturally," he grumbled to himself before sticking the prod in the rump of one of the lagging cows. It trotted a few steps and then went back to its leisurely ambling pace. Damn cow.

Clean it? And because he wasn't looking right at her, Mace didn't understand at first. Then, he turned around, prod held like a club before him. He looked at the necklace in the weeds, at her across the fence. And then he grinned.

"I'd rather just leave it there among the cow dung." He gave the prod a little tap against his bicep, knew that the herd was moving behind him. "Seems fitting."

for what it's worth, I always aim to please
but I nearly died

Now that the herd was back on track, Mace regained some control over his faculties. Not entirely, because the girl was still on his property, or near enough to it once she jumped the fence. Clean her necklace? What was he, a girl? Clearly he had his hands full with the half-witted beasts moseying along behind him. Every few seconds Mace reached back and gave the nearest one a prod in her flank, just to be sure things kept on moving. He had no plans to be stuck outside after nightfall, even though it would be considerably cooler in the fields than in his room.

He swung the prod about expertly, letting it rest at his side. "I'm sure you do," he said in response to her sarcastic appreciation. Two could play at that game, and now that they were beyond the niceties... but then, they'd never really been introduced, had they? No, he realized all of that had gone the window when it was clear she was poaching.

"For the record, so I can tell the Peacekeepers, what did you say your name was?" Which was so very typical of him - lay it all out, plain as day. Except he wasn't one hundred percent sure he would tell the Peacekeepers. Wouldn't have much to show for it. Besides which, he got the impression that she'd make things a lot worse for him if he did tattle. And it was such a childish thing to do - to tell on someone else who knew the rules and broke them out of desperation, which he assumed she did.

He felt a little tickle in his stomach. A strange, unfamiliar feeling. Like rocks rolling around his abdomen.

for what it's worth, I always aim to please
but I nearly died

Larae. It wasn't a name he'd heard before, and he was pretty good with names anyhow, so he was sure to remember it. Besides which, it would be enough to track her down, if need be. He grinned as he thought about the things he could call her, wanted to call her. None of them were particularly creative, but all had just a dash of color. "Fine, Thief." He tempered himself, although he wasn't sure exactly why. "You already know where I live, clearly, it's like a magnet for you. I'm Mace."

The herd had just about moved on to the next pen by the time she decided to speak again. Mace was good with the silence. He spent in days without human chatter, and his nights filled with it, getting his rest and fill with the cycling of the sun. But he loved being out with the herd, even when they were stubborn. At least they didn't want anything from him, didn't demand anything, although they still depended on him. Was there a better relationship?

He weighed her words as he gazed at the sunset. The colors were still weak, although long-lasting. Sunsets were always better in the fall. Mace snorted. "I don't forget that easily. But I don't want you poaching on our lands either, y'hear? Keep off the property, and maybe I'll forget about the rabbit. And the necklace."

But forget about her? Impossible.

for what it's worth, I always aim to please
but I nearly died

"Okay... Rae." And because it rhymed, he couldn't help but grin. It wasn't his normal, full of testosterone and sarcasm expression either. This was far less mature, less practiced. A boyish smile. It was as close as Mace ever got to laughter. It made his cheeks puffier, his lips stretching wide over his teeth. And then it vanished, the sun behind the clouds. "How else are we going to meet?"

He asked the question too quickly on the heels of the last, so that the expression, the ghost of it, still lingered. And while he meant the question rather pointedly - as in, get off my property - it came off a little playful. He heard it come out of his mouth and couldn't help but be a little baffled. He was certain he had meant it to be a another brush off, but had it been?

He clicked his cheek, pushing air between his teeth and flesh as the last of the cows moved on. The day's work caught up with him then, settled in his sore muscles and weighed down mind. "Just don't let me catch you stealing nothin' on the way out," he added finally, before tucking his cow prod under his arm.