Here's to Plain Speaking and Clear Understanding with Fangs and Teeth Bared


They lounge together on the couch in his apartment with a cigarette shared between them, it's the only one that survived the crushed pack during the fight. They're both a bit battered and bloody after taking Hattie out, but she has to say that it felt good to let loose. It's been a while.

She stretches out like a cat and can feel his eyes tracking her every little movement. A smile of amusement twitches across her lips before she turns to take the cigarette from his offering hand. She takes a long drag and then lets it out slowly, the taste of tobacco lingering on her tongue.

Their hands graze as she hands it back and there's a flare of heat where skin meets skin. It's a reminder of where they stand, though she admits that there has always been some unnamed thing between them, there is something that has always kept them apart. Henry, The Vassals, him killing her husband…

She shakes her head at the last thought and it's on mostly steady legs she rises from the couch and heads for his bathroom to shower. He quickly grabs on to her wrist with a light grip and she pauses to turn back to him.

"Where you going?" He asks nonchalantly, his thumb stroking at the inside of her wrist.

She pulls her arm loose from his hand at the touch and tilts her head toward the restroom door, "Going to shower."

He nods and sprawls out on the couch, the perfect picture of a languid disheveled mess. His short hair is sticking up every which way and his shirt is torn and covered in blood, most of it not his, but he looks good. Now she's the one staring at him, and it's that simple thought that is enough to turn her away.

When she reaches the bathroom door she stops with her hand hovering over the knob and turns back to face him again, "Oh, and don't think you can just start casually touching me whenever you want because we worked together, we aren't friends yet, Skinner."

He responds with a low laugh and, shifting around on the couch, comes up to lean on one elbow to get a better look at her. "Could have fooled me with how chummy we've been."

"You know I'm more dangerous than you give me credit for Sweet. I managed to kill you once, I know I can do it again." She aims to be somewhat playful, but his eyes flash with something dangerous. There's a long bought of silence as his lips slowly crack into a dark smile that makes her heart jump against the confines of her chest, but he makes no move to come after her.

"That's because you cheated dolly, not only did you bring a knife to a fang fight but you caught me by surprise. That won't happen next time, and if you try it again I'll rip out your fucking throat and laugh as I watch you struggle to breathe."

It's not a threat, just a simple statement.

Blue eyes meet blue eyes in a tense stare down. He is the first to break it, leaning over to stub out the cigarette on the coffee table ashtray after taking one more long pull off it. She stares after him for a few seconds then quietly opens and shuts the bathroom door behind her.