What's a little stabbing among friends?
Its 1985, Bobby and Rufus are working a case and bickering, as per usual, although half-heartedly on Rufus' part. Rufus is trying really hard to abide by his decision "to be nice." Bobby smirked a bit and wondered when the conviction would pass when Rufus told him. So far, Bobby could see when a snarky comment or cutting insult would have slipped up and he saw how Rufus choked it back. Rufus would bite his lips together and swallow the insult down with a grimace like a reluctant child choking down cod liver oil. Bobby wanted to congratulate him on the small progress, but a wicked streak held him back. The thought of a silent game where Rufus thinks Bobby isn't noticing his valiant struggles sounded more entertaining. So, Bobby feigns ignorance over his friend's choking attempt at civility. And he needles the guy, mercilessly, as well.
They're hunting a shapeshifter with machetes and Bowie knives for close quarters. The blades at their belts and the machetes across their backs. This one is more slippery than they thought possible--especially for a walking goo glob. As soon as one skin is found the creature is gone. Rufus is getting frustrated. Bobby is too--a little bit, but mostly he's entertained with the Shakespearean play of torture on Rufus' face.
They finally corner the creature in a narrow hallway, Bobby in front and Rufus kitty corner to the only escape route. Bobby plunges the Bowie knife into the screeching creature's belly in an attempt to hobble it, but Rufus already went in for the stab--one already in the back.
The creature howls. Rufus growls and swings a machete backhanded across the shifter's skull, splitting it in half. The two gloppy slabs of flesh fall to the ground like so much ground chuck.
Bobby straightens up, glad his partner is still a quick draw despite the lack of cutting remarks, but Rufus stays doubled over.
"You son-of-a-bitch," he mutters. Bobby has to laugh. "Broke that streak, huh?" Rufus stands up. Red drips from his stomach and a constipated snarl is on his lips. "You stabbed me," he says, calmly, and then blows air out of his nose like a stalled bull. Bobby feels the blood drain from his face at his clumsiness, but also a little wiggle of pride at Rufus' restraint. He shrugs.
"Well," he scoffs in an attempt to keep things cool, "What's a little stabbing among friends?"
