"Can I speak with you alone, Cass?" Max's voice when it came out was surprisingly stable, all things considered, sitting in stark contrast to the panic, harried repetition of 'fuck, fuck, fuck' that had preceded it.
"I don't know, Max, can you? Are you sure you don't need to ask for permission first?"
Max, in a show of restraint that you'd not been expecting in the slightest, elects to ignore the jibe entirely, refusing outright to play into his girlfriend's hands by reacting, by letting the shot she'd just taken at him, and at you and Daniel by extension, because he knows that in doing so, he puts himself at an advantage, which is something he desperately needs at the moment.
"Can you go help GP?" He doesn't elaborate further or go into any greater detail because he doesn't have to since he's speaking to you and you can read what remains unsaid in his eyes, gleaning anything else you need from the planes of his face or from the positioning of his body across the table.
He doesn't have to tell you to get Kaia, who's currently in under the watchful eye of Max's race engineer, nor does he instruct you to watch over her while he handles Cass, a task you don't envy in the slightest, or to keep his daughter away, at a safe distance, until he says otherwise.
"Yeah," you nod your head, already pushing your chair back from the table, shoving what remains of your breakfast in Max's direction, knowing that he'll eat what you didn't get too, "I'll check in with Horner and then go straight to him."
"You know, I can't imagine GP would want her under foot right now, Max," Cassandra chimes in, perching herself on her boyfriend's lap, entirely oblivious to the pained expression on his face, clearly made very uncomfortable by the display of public affection, "I don't think I've ever seen you with him before, his work is quite beyond your personal..." she drags her blue eyes down the length of your body, from head to toes and then back again, utterly unimpressed, "talents."
"No, she's going," Max cuts in deftly, "you're going. I've told him to expect you."
"Why don't you sit? Stay, it's been so long since we've spoken and I'm just dying to know how things are with you," Cassandra wraps her claw like hand around your wrist, her long nails digging into your skin as she turns to Max, her mouth arranged in an exaggerated pout, "why can't she stay?"
"Go, now," his words are directed at you even though he doesn't look your way once, instead cutting his gaze at Cass before flicking it down, moving them away from her face and to her hand, to where she's still holding onto you, silently instructing her to let you go and to be quick about it.
"Don't fucking touch me," your face is hard as you speak, glaring at Cassandra with barely concealed disdain scrawled across your features.
Wrenching your arm out of her grasp, you take a half step forward, absolute elation washing through you when the violence with which you tore yourself free of Cassandra's hold is mirrored in the savage grin that follows it when, to your eternal delight, your discover the same deep seated, unadulterated hatred that burns in your eyes, that's been stoked low, reduced to hot coals to keep it in check, is reflected in her's.
""I don't care who your father is, who your grandfather was or who you're dating, I don't give a flying fuck who you know or which one of my friends you're fucking- because if you ever do that again, if you ever fucking touch me again, they'd have to kill me before they could get me away from you- and I fucking mean that."
"Is that a threat? Are you threatening me here, in front of not just one witness but two?" Cassandra asks apathetically, one perfectly groomed blonde eyebrow arched in question, as she glances around the room, taking in the sea of people, of team members and employees, the vast majority of whom she's interacted with for two years but still doesn't know by name or by face, "in front of a room of witnesses?"
"If you think I'd ever testify for you, you've vastly underestimated how much I hate you, haven't you?" Daniel snorts derisively, "I don't know what testimony you think I'd ever give for you because, to be entirely honest, I'd help bury your corpse and commit perjury under oath a hundred times if over the opportunity presented itself but you'd need to kill me to get me to testify for you, because over my dead body, would I ever get up on the stand and tell the truth, if the truth had the grave misfortune of being in your favor."
"See, what I'm hearing here, Cassandra, is that regardless of who's speaking, whether it's me or it's Dan, you remain the same, just about as capable of critical thought as look like you would be- which is to say not at all," you laugh coldly, endlessly grateful that the little charade of polite company has ended, the unspoken pact of civility now declared to be null and void, "I always just assumed but it's nice to have the confirmation."
"I don't know who you're calling stupid when you are the one making threats in front of countless witnesses to the fact," it takes every ounce of restraint and self-control left in you to not abandon all sense of self-preservation by giving in to temptation and knocking that smug, superior smile on her face.
"I'm not threatening you, I'm promising you- just give me a reason to," you know instantly when it finally clicks in Cassandra's head that what the two of you are doing isn't play fighting that starts and stops without ever escalating beyond barbed words and veiled insults because her face goes slack and her shoulders fall, curling in slightly, giving her the appearance of a sail when the wind goes out of it without warning, the change in the air sudden and unexpected.
"Go. Kaia. Now." Max doesn't leave any room for protestation or pushing back, he gives order to be obeyed, sparing you the small mercy of a reminder tucked neatly away in the middle of the directive.
Go to Kaia, your place is not here fighting my battle for me but with my daughter until I can be there myself. What I need, what Kaia needs, is for you to trust me to handle this like I already trust you to handle her- completely.
I'm not asking you for blind faith, I'm simply asking that you find a way to put your wants and needs aside, to relinquish them regardless of their validity, to put Kaia's wants and Kaia's needs ahead of your own- I'm asking you to meet me in the middle.
"Fine," you force the word out through gritted teeth, refusing to tear your gaze from Cassandra as you say it, "but as soon as-"
"Yes," he presses a hand to your shoulder, the unanticipated point of contact instantaneously becomes absolutely impossible to ignore, the heat of his touch, of his palm and his fingers pressed against you, a newly tangible thing that's bleeding through the thin fabric of your team shirt to warm your skin, "as soon as I'm done here, I find you, I'll come right to you- to the two of you, alright?"
"Alright," grudgingly, you relent, forcing yourself to yield to Max, to do as he's fairly asked you to, to accept what he's said, because deep down, whether you like it or not, whether you care to admit it or not, he's right, regardless of how you might feel or what you might want, you have no right to his fight, it was not yours to lay claim to.
"Aw, now isn't this just heartwarming," Cassandra pushes out her bottom lip in an over exaggerated pout, her words sickly sweet, "what a touching little performance!"
"Oh, go fuck yourself, Cassandra," you retort scathingly, "Dan, you coming?"
"I, uh-" Daniel looks to Max in silent question, giving his friend the opportunity to decide whether he stays or goes, and making it abundantly clear to all parties involved that when it comes down to it, both you and he defer to Max above all else.
"Go," the Dutchman answers, giving a shallow dip of his head in assent.
"Understood, chief," in an effort to lighten the tense, dreary mood, Daniel salutes Max as he stands, pushing his chair in before, in the same fluid motion, he sketches a bow in Cassandra's direction, "as always, it was awful to see you, Ms. Dormer-Bancroft. Give my regards to your father, I hope things aren't too hectic in hell this time of year but clearly things must be manageable if he and the tortured souls could make do without you for the day."
