Leftfield
Who: Brett and Eris
Where: Their place
When: Evening
NSFW
He woke up groggy - always a sign that he'd gone to sleep far too tired and fallen into a deep, deep sleep. The fact that the bed was cool beside him let him know that she'd gotten up some time ago, even if she'd come to bed with him at dawn. He glanced at the window, where the evening sun showed pale through a gap in the curtains. Apparently, he'd slept all day.
Brett brushed a palm over his face, across the stubble there as he padded through the apartment, dressed still in a short sleeved undershirt and a pair of blue striped pyjama pants, his feet bare. The only addition was the gun he was carrying, which he'd slipped from the holster hung over his side of the bedstead as he'd swung to standing. He hadn't bothered with the belt itself, if he needed the weapon, he'd need it, if not, then he wasn't intending to go far anyhow.
He found her out in the office, looking like she'd been there for some time. "What you working on?" he asked her, before rolling his tongue around the inside of his mouth. It was dry from sleep - he should have stopped off for something to drink on the way out.
Eris glanced up from where she was writing a lot of things down and looking through other piles of paperwork. "I'm looking at different available locations for the club." she told him, looking back at the pages in question. "You sound like you should go back to bed." she noted. While he'd been sleeping she'd had a pretty productive day. She'd gone out, stopped by a few locations and gotten files on others in the city, photographs inside and out attached. She shut one file and set it aside, and picked up the next, opening it up.
"I've slept all day - don't think I need any more, Princess," he told her, heading round to her side of the desk and looking down over her shoulder. "Anything looking promising?" he asked. It was something else to think about that wasn't Andrei, though his worries in that had altered a little. The idea that the guy would come in with all guns blazing in an emotional overreaction was gone. Now, he knew, the danger came from a thought out and calculated attack, but at least that gave them some breathing space. He could almost relax, for a while anyhow.
She shrugged one shoulder. Truthfully, she was still a little sore over things last night, though not with Andrei specifically. They'd managed not to argue, but she was still a little unhappy with things in general. "I haven't finished going over everything." she told him. "And the locations I saw today were alright, but nothing that screamed 'this is the place' to me."
He'd reached over her shoulder to push one of the papers aside, to look at something underneath, but his hand stilled as she said that. "...You went out somewhere?" he asked, his voice completely devoid of any emotion or emphasis, save that he was clearly asking a question.
"Yes, I'd set up two appointments before, I didn't see any real merit to cancel them for no reason. So, I went. You were sleeping." she pointed out. And she'd let him sleep, both because she knew he needed it and he seemed to be sleeping like the dead. Therefore she hadn't even made an attempt to wake him. Beyond that, she didn't need a babysitter, no matter who might be pissed at her right now. She'd thought it all through, and figured if he really wanted to do something messy and public, Brett's presence there or not would make no difference on that. the only thing that would be different was whether or not he was standing there to witness it.
"No reason," Brett asked in the same tone as he straightened up. "No reason - you bait a fucking psychopathic assassin who likes fucking torturing his victims before he kills them and who seems to have developed a personal fucking fixation on you and you think there's 'no reason' for wandering out on your fucking own the very next fucking day?" Brett asked her, without actually raising his voice. But the anger was plain in any event, seething in his tone. She'd gone out, and he'd fucking slept through it. All day. Anything could have happened to her and he was asleep. At least some of his anger, he knew, was pointed right at himself, for being that much of a fool. He knew her better than that by now. He should have anticipated that she'd do something like this.
Eris turned her attention back on Brett, sitting back in the chair to do so. She waited, and gave a clear thirty seconds or so that made it clear she was waiting for him to be fully finished before she addressed it. "It's not as if you need to tell me about the torture and psychopathic assassin part, darling, you know perfectly well if either of us knows that well, it's me. I was there, remember?" she asked rhetorically. "And yes, I baited him. And I'm bored with him now, too. And whatever it is he does, he'll actually have to work for. I'm not hiding up in some little tower and cowering. I believe I mentioned something along these lines last night. As for being alone or not, I don't see how it matters. If he was planning something for me today, he probably would have had to nab me somewhere along the line in public in full view of other people, and if he was going to do that, then there'd be witnesses. And I highly doubt he would have been deterred if you just happened to be there. So the only real consideration was whether you were there to witness him trying something flagrant and stupid, or not."
"No, he might not have been deterred, but at least if he'd tried something, I would have been there to blow his fucking head off," Brett shot back, anger driving the dramatics. "And sure, maybe, public places wouldn't have been the best, but correct me if I'm wrong here and you weren't going looking at large empty buildings with maybe only a realtor in tow?" he asked her, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"I had your gun on me." she said. The one he'd given her back when she lived at the loft. "So I would have been happy to ventilate his cranium should he have gotten anywhere in my sights. Besides, I'm fairly certain if one of us was going to kill him, I'd be the best candidate. You're not a killer, definitely not anymore." she pointed out, though that part wasn't meant to be a dig. It was something she liked about him, not something she thought needed condemning.
"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, Princess. And trust me, if he comes for you? It won't matter if I'm a killer or not - I'm not going to hesitate," he told her, meaning every word of that. "Look - there are two ways he could play this. Assuming that he's not just gonna let this go." Which he doubted, so didn't even consider it as a possibility. "Either he was gonna come at you straight away, angry and unthinking. That's dangerous, because yes, he would have come at you in a crowd, or in front of witnesses. So today was the most dangerous day for you. Last night most so, this morning and afternoon still though. As of now, he's more likely to be onto plan two. Which is waiting, thinking, planning. Even more dangerous in its own way, but at least it gives us time. When he comes, he'll be trying to make it when we least expect it. So no, as of now, hiding away isn't going to do us any good, but taking sensible precautions - like at least letting me know where the hell you're going to be - is the way to go. I know this guy. He's good - possibly one of the best. And I know you don't think he's up to it after last night, but just because he can't play you games, doesn't mean that he doesn't have some of his own." She knew this, he knew she knew this, but right now he thought she needed to be reminded of it, or her stubborn nature and wilfulness to prove a point was going to get her killed.
"He won't let it go." Eris said, aware of that. "I didn't think he would. But I also know the only way he got to me in the first place was someone cleared the way for him. He doesn't have enough brains to do things in a higher functioning fashion. I learned that last night. Whatever intelligence I've attributed to him, it's exceeded what he's got. And maybe he's the best but at the end of the day he's still just a fucked up butcher with the trigger control of a toddler. Does that make him dangerous? Yes. But it doesn't make him some mystical god of murder who's going to show up at any second to kill me, and I refuse to treat him as such. I'm not hiding and editing my life down to nothing just because he might have something planned."
"Yes, he had the way cleared for you," Brett agreed, though his tone didn't change. "And now, with today - you cleared the way for him yourself. If he'd been there, if he'd just been watching the fucking building. Couldn't get in because I'd said nobody did, but that doesn't mean that he couldn't just have been fucking waiting outside. Seething, being single track because you made him look like a fucking idiot and pissed him off. And you waltz out the fucking front door and go off to some empty fucking building somewhere. Way well and truly cleared." He took a few breaths. he'd been trying to control his anger more with her lately, it never got him anywhere, and here was no different, but he couldn't help but imagine several ways that this could have gone so badly wrong. "He needed the way cleared for you, sure. But you're not his first, you won't be his last. He needed the way cleared for you because where you were, you were untouchable," he said, going for a far more reasonable tone of voice, actual worry for her seeping through, and now clear in his eyes. He didn't know what he'd do if she got dead, he didn't want to lose her. "Here, now - you're not. It would be so much easier for him to get to you. I'm not talking hiding, Julia. I'm just talking taking precautions that you know are sensible. Just - don't give him an opportunity. He doesn't need to be any kind of a god to take the opportunity."
"I asked if anyone had been in even attempting to come up. And sure, he could have waited outside if he hadn't been allowed in, but still. Nothing happened, alright?" she told him, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "What kind of precautions would you like me to take?" she asked, since she did pick up on the fact that he was concerned, and of course he used her name. That always had a specific impact. It gave more weight to whatever he was saying. "If you want me to take certain precautions, alright. I can do that." she promised. "I just don't want to give him more credit than he deserves, and I don't want to rearrange my life because of fear. I've done that a little too long now, and I don't want to go back to it."
"I know you don't want to give him more credit than he deserves, but I'd rather do that than underestimate him. And I've been cleaning up after this guy for far too long to want... Carrying the gun is a good start, but let me know where you're going. Let me come along if I think it's risky. Hell, we set me up as a bodyguard, so use me. Nobody's gonna bat an eyelid about that. It's not changing anything, it's just the way it was meant to play out in the first place. Not saying you can't go anywhere on your own, just... Not to empty buildings, okay? And anyway," he added, smiling just a touch. "If you're looking at possible new premises, then I want to see them as well - that decision is ours to make, remember?" he pointed out.
"I don't want to use you." Eris said, watching his eyes. "And I know you were set up to be my bodyguard and all, but I don't really want you to be." Mostly because things had changed between them, and she no longer liked the connotation. It would make him an automatic target, of course, for starters, and especially in light of last night, she didn't want a guard dog, she wanted him. There was an inherent difference. "But fine, I'll let you know where I'm going if I'm going anywhere, and if there's any more locations to look at, we can go together." she said. "Or we can look through these photographs together and see if anyplace even looks worth the trip."
Brett would take that as an answer. He didn't need her to want to do anything, just as long as she would do it. The rest, well, he wasn't up for pushing his reasoning, not when it wasn't necessary. "So, show me the photographs," he requested, pulling a chair over and sitting down.
"Pick a file." Eris told him, gesturing towards the ones on the desk. She turned back towards them, still vaguely unhappy with just about everything right then, but she didn't say anything further. She deemed it a pointless exersize. She didn't generally go in for things that were futile, even if it seemed like her life had been made up of a whole lot of that for the past few months. That didn't mean she wanted to make a habit of it.
"This one," Brett said, picking one at random. He hadn't seen any of them, after all. She'd been going ahead with this without him, and he knew she thought he wasn't that interested. That, he considered, could be part of the problem, so a solution would be for him to be clear about showing interest, when she let him. Like right now.
Picking the one he indicated up, she handed it over to him, partially thwacking it against his chest as she did so, and she opened up another one, starting to glance at the photographs in that one. The pictures, though, weren't necessarily very good ones. None of them were, for any of the buildings so far. They were darker than they should have been, though she imagined they were just quick reference shots and not designed to give too accurate a reading of the space.
Brett took the file off her - though it was more like he put a hand across his chest to stop the papers falling to the floor as she let go, not saying anything at the spike of annoyance which rose at that move. He thought she had an interesting definition of 'together', but if that was the way she wanted to play it, then fine - he'd been angry at her enough today, he didn't want to go chasing down another argument. Instead he moved a couple of foot away and opened the folder, starting to look through the file, checking the photos - what they were - against the specs, trying to get a feel for places.
She noticed he moved away, but then she was aware of him in general at the moment, even if she didn't look like she was paying any attention. She went through a few of the files, discarding the ones she looked at already into a pile on the corner of the desk closest to him, and there was really only one she marked, scribbling a little star in the corner of the folder. Most of the places she was looking at would take a little too much start up work to make a place viable, and while normally she wouldn't mind putting said work in, if they wanted to have anything up and running sometime this year, they needed someplace in slightly better repair. She was down to the end of the pile, however, and she just sat back, drumming her nails slightly on the arm of the chair, though she didn't keep it up as a steady thing, she only did it once or twice.
Brett was behind her in going through files, but the ones he had looked at, he'd divided into 'definitely not' and 'possibility' piles. The former pile was definitely a lot larger than the latter, which only consisted of a couple of places as he looked through the final file, purposefully ignoring her drumming - which, whilst not repetitive, did give him a clear signal that she was done now - until he was done, and then setting that file on the reject pile before turning back to her, just looking at her and waiting for her to say something.
She waited for him just like he was waiting for her, though she broke the silence first. "Well, did you see anything that looked promising?" she asked. "The only thing I saw was this." she tapped the file with the star on it. She'd considered marking them all, putting x's on the ones she didn't like but figured later she'd wonder which was which. So, she went for not confusing herself later.
Brett nodded slightly. "Yeah, I thought that that one looked like it had potential. And possibly this one as well," he said, picking up the other file he'd placed in the 'maybe' pile and passing it over for her to have a look at. "The floorspace is bigger, and looks well laid out, but it's not in as good an area of town," he added.
She took the files he held out to her and she handed him the one she'd marked. "Did we make a decision on what kind of clientele we wanted?" she asked, knowing they'd had the discussion, but at the same time she wasn't entirely certain they'd landed on anything solid. If they had, she should probably know, even if she didn't at the moment. So, instead of flailing and trying to figure it out on her own she figured the best way was just to ask.
"I don't think we came to any real conclusions on that score," Brett told her, aware of the fact that part of the reason she would be asking was to cover the fact she may have actually forgotten. "More upmarket than not - we're not heading for the 'Round style of custom, but I think the Drake would be out of our league," he added.
She nodded, and opened up the files that she had been given, looking over the photographs inside. She didn't say anything more, kind of going through the motions of looking things over. Nothing stood out as wholly unacceptable and the like, not like some of the other places at least.
"Was the one you starred one of the places you went to look at?" he asked her, knowing he had to broach that subject, even if he was still annoyed that she'd done that. It would achieve nothing at all to sit here and pretend that those visits didn't exist, not find out whether they had achieved anything.
She shook her head. "No." she answered. "I just thought it looked better than the others." She started looking through the pictures from the ones he'd liked, looking for the same things she'd done for all the others. Space, state of repair, and potential. It was how she'd picked Babylon, it had fit the right criteria for her.
He looked through the one she'd liked again, refreshing himself on the points that he'd liked about it. "This one has a good stage area, the shape's unusual - it would give a good focal point. And I like the sweep of the stairs up to the balcony, again, another potential feature. But the backstage area is more cramped," he commented. "Did you find anything in the places you looked at today?" he asked her.
"Backstage won't matter that much." Eris told him. "The performers are there to be on stage, to get the attention there. They'd be more interested in a proper stage or a good space there than a large dressing room. And unless we're going to be staging plays, we won't need much in the way of storage or anything." At his question, she shrugged one shoulder. "Not really." she answered. "Which I believe I already said. They were alright, but nothing special. Nothing I'd actually be interested in. We'd need more money to renovate if we went with the places I saw today."
"That depends on the type of acts we want to go for," Brett mused, still looking through the plans. "trust me when i say that some of the Kitten Club dancers took up a whole lot of space - as did the costumes they wore. That place has almost as much room back stage as front. Though that also included the private rooms," he added. "But - I think we'd be better off going for something with a little less dazzle and fake glitz and a bit more class. Bands and singers rather than dancers," he said, without looking up.
"Considering it was that faction that decided to take me out the first time, I'd really rather not give them any excuse to try it again." Eris said, not looking up again at that, tone flat. "Something tells me an excuse as flimsy as 'you're stealing our thing' would pass inspection." Or not, considering what happened to the specific branch of the Syndicate that targeted her, but she didn't want to go handing out excuses, either.
"If possible, I'd prefer to not go up in direct competition with either faction," Brett agreed. He liked being able to sleep at night, after all. "If we could find a spot in the market that wasn't properly catered for, I think that would be best."
Dropping the files she'd been looking at down on her desktop, she looked over at him, and quite abruptly changed the subject. Or more reverted. "What exactly would you do?" she asked. "You were pissed I left, said he could be waiting right outside, well, what if he was?" she continued. "What exactly would you do that would make the situation better?"
Brett looked up, confused by the abrupt change of subject, and for a moment that showed in his expression before that disappeared. "Princess, I've been working this kind of thing since I was eighteen. Looking out for, protecting people against and catching the bad guys. I've seen in from both sides of the law, used techniques that were both legal and, frankly, make me sick to my stomach. You're good. At lots of things. I don't want to tie you down, or hold you back - especially not now. Because when you're allowed to be you, you shine. But, in this - this is what I do, this is where I shine. And if it wasn't for the fact that I'd have to leave you alone to do it, I'd be working on tracking him down. I hate that he's out there right now, doing who the fuck knows what, and we're doing shit about it. I don't like just sitting here, waiting for him to make his move, but I don't trust anybody else. So, let's just get on with getting on - do you want to make appointments to see these two places?" he asked her, his tone controlled.
A few thoughts went through her mind as he spoke. First was that he thought she shined at anything, since she didn't generally consider him a person who noticed that sort of thing or if they did, that it translated itself as that in words. But it wasn't the point even if she kind of wanted to pursue it. She didn't, she just marked it down in the back of her mind. She didn't say anything for a moment. "What would you do if you tracked him down?" she asked. She was aware she was ignoring the question he asked, but she deemed the other topic more important.
"That would depend on the situation, but at the very least I'd know where he was and what his movements were," he said, also aware that she was ignoring his attempt to get them back on track again. He didn't want to discuss the issue of the fact that being this blind ate at him. He might not be the kind of person who went digging unnecessarily, but when there was a threat on the horizon, he'd prefer to do something about it, even if all he could do about it was to find out the extent of its reality. He'd prefer to find Andre and determine whether the man was, indeed, an active threat, or whether he was just the boogeyman in the closet. But it wasn't just him - there was her to think about. He wouldn't leave her behind, and he wouldn't take the potential target with him. Even if she'd probably want him to do either of those things.
"That's a little too long term." Eris said. "Besides, just knowing where he's coming and going to..." she shook her head, drumming her nails again as she considered. "But that's all you'd want to know? That would make you feel better if you tracked him down, just...knowing where he was?" she asked, wanting to be clear on what exactly was bothering him and what would make him feel better.
Brett paused for a moment, before speaking, not entirely wanting to get into this. "Right now, he's an unknown quantity," he explained. "He could be anywhere, doing anything. he could be outside the door, coming at any time, or last night could have washed off him and he could be shopping for groceries, not giving you a second thought. I don't think either of those is actually happening, but I don't know. And I can't say what I'd do when I found him, if I went looking for him, because I don't know what he's doing. I don't know what level of threat he is right now. You clearly think I'm over reacting, but you can't measure a reaction unless you've got something to measure it against."
"I don't think you're overreacting." Eris said first. "I just don't think the reaction you are having adds up. Either you're afraid of what he's going to do, or you're afraid of what you don't know. And today you were mad I left without you. But if you'd been there, I don't see what you would have done, if he did happen to be out there. I'm not actually trying to be a bitch about this." she said. "...maybe I was earlier. I'm not now. My point hasn't changed. If he's there he's there, and if my choices are go about my business, or hide inside just in case he's out there..." she trailed off, waiting for his input.
"I think you're trying to twist things," Brett told her, though he kept his tone even in that. "You say being concerned about what he might do and being concerned of what I don't know like they're two different things. They're not. I don't know what he might do and therefore I'm concerned about it," he told her, fitting the parts together. Your choices may be to go about your business, but pretending that he's not a threat to prove some point to either him, or to yourself - that's not reasonable. Nobody's talking about hiding." He put the file down on the table and looked at her. "And I get it, I do. You took precautions last time, you had a bodyguard, a place people shouldn't have been able to get back to, the whole nine yards. And he still got to you. But just because they managed it that time doesn't mean that the theory was wrong. You took the right steps - you just did it with the wrong people." Which was at least part of why he didn't trust anybody now, not for this. Why if anyone was going to be watching over her, it was going to be him.
She gave herself a moment to assess what he said, watching him as she did so. "Maybe part of it is proving a point, but not all of it." she told him. "Honestly, I just don't really see merit in staying up here and doing nothing. And I still think I have a point on the consequences of what happens if he does try something. Whether you're there or not I don't actually think will make a difference. I think he's a little too full of himself to think you're going to be in his way. I think he's a little too stupid to consider you a threat, especially considering what role you used to have in regards to him. I think anyone in their right mind would be pleasantly intimidated, but I don't think that's the case with him." It looked like she was going to say more, but then she didn't, figuring she might as well see if she'd made any sense whatsoever first.
Brett did feel like he was starting to repeat himself, but with her, sometimes that was necessary and he accepted that. "I'm not saying you have to stay up here, Princess. Last night was different and I explained that. Now, I'm just saying that sensible precautions should be taken. I'm not saying you can't go anywhere without me, just consider where you're going and whether there'll be any opportunities he could take. Like being in large empty buildings with few witnesses," he told her, patiently. "As for whether or not he'd consider me a threat. You're right - he probably doesn't. My presence would probably do nothing to stop him making an attempt. But I know Volkov, and he's not the man who's going to sit in a building window with a sniper rifle, waiting for a clear shot. He likes things up close and personal. So if he comes for you, he'll come for you. And so it won't matter one little bit whether he considers me a threat or not. His opinion in this is immaterial. What matters is that I am a threat. My presence won't stop him trying - but you can be damn sure that I'll stop him succeeding," Brett said, his tone turning cold.
She did take it on board better with him spelling it out more blatantly. She also kept her eyes on him, considering everything, particularly the last part. "You probably don't mean it this way, but I'll state for the record here that I would really prefer to remain the only murderer in this partnership." she said. She'd nearly said 'relationship' but in the end kept the more business connotation attached, even if she didn't actually imagine Brett's motives had anything to do with that part of their arrangements in general. So far as she was concerned, if it was kept on a less personal basis, it might help. Or maybe that was bullshit, and she was just spinning herself a tale to make herself feel better. That was entirely possible.
"If I have to kill that bastard in your defence, I wouldn't consider it murder," Brett told her, in the same cold tone. She knew he'd killed before. She knew he'd drawn up a difference between 'killing' and 'murder' in an attempt to keep himself sane with everything he'd had to do over the years. He was no murderer, but that didn't mean he wasn't capable to killing someone.
"And I'd prefer if you never had to do anything like that ever again, so how about we don't even put things in that light?" Eris suggested. "Let's not make you 'have' to." And then she was wondering if maybe that hadn't been part of her motivation for leaving without him today. She didn't want him in a position where he felt like that was his only choice, and even if his tone was icy at the moment, that didn't mean she thought he'd deal with it any better. Plus, at the end of the day flat out she didn't want that for him. Period.
He stood and crossed to her, cupping a hand round her cheek and angling her face up so he was looking down at her, touching her for the first time since he'd woken up alone. "If it's a choice, I know which one I'd take," he told her, his voice low and serious. "Not gonna go out on the warpath to take him down, but if he brings it..." He wouldn't risk her.
She blinked a little when he stood, and she looked up at him when he tilted her face up towards his. She didn't say anything for a few long moments, just watching those bright blues of his. And there were a lot of things she could have said, but she said what was closest to her heart, the root of things for her. "I don't want to do that to you." she told him, tone light. It didn't matter to her that he'd do it, and while she appreciated that he would, she knew she felt safer knowing that, she didn't want it. Part of what she appreciated in him in the first place was that heroic streak--she just tended not to be so happy about it when it was directed at her. And she didn't for the life of her know why, but that was how it was.
"You're not 'doing' anything to me, Princess. You're not forcing me into this, or cornering me. In fact, way I see it, you're pretty much fighting me on this every step of the way. But if he tries to hurt you in any way, if he comes after you and makes any attempt to finish what he started, if it comes to that. Then he'll have me to deal with. I am not going to let him get to you," he said, slowly, calmly and determinedly. It wasn't a promise to kill him. Brett knew if there was any other way of permanently dealing with the guy, he would. If he could get Volkov arrested, charged, get the key thrown away, that would do for him. But the world didn't always work, and the justice system certainly didn't always work. And Brett wouldn't rule out the possibility that he would have to deal with this himself. And if it came to that, he was okay with it.
She reached up to put her hand over the back of his, not sure what to say in that moment. Though she was starting to think she should take care of it on her own before it came to anything else. Because she believed him. Very much she believed him. That just didn't change her opinion on the matter which was he shouldn't have to do anything like kill a man to protect her. She understood it was very specific to him. For anyone else she wouldn't have cared, but Brett? He'd left behind the life where he had to do that kind of thing, she'd helped get him out of it. And even if this was just a little backslide, she didn't want it happening. And she didn't think that Andrei would be doing anything short of playing a likely more time consuming, amped up version of what he'd done to her before. Especially not when he had aleady sent her gifts and set up a meet. Her walking around bothered him, and that was something she couldn't avoid. He wasn't going to let it go. And whatever he did was going to be big. Especially now. In the end she didn't say anything, she just looked up at him, and it was clear she was unhappy with the entire situation. There wasn't any ire to it, just a concern that ran deep.
He looked down at her still. There were things that possibly could have been said, but he couldn't give voice to them and so, after the silence had stretched, instead of speaking he leaned in and kissed her, his hand sliding out from under hers and round to the back of her neck, pulling her upwards into the kiss.
There was a part of Eris that almost panicked. She kissed him back, and there was a lot behind it. But that was why. There was a lot behind it. And there was part of her that really wanted it, him, and everything else. A part of her that was hugely emotionally invested, and in that moment, even moreso than the night they'd nearly ended things, she recognized she was really really attached. That he meant something to her, on a deep level. A scary level. A lot of the time she could ignore that, and just not examine it, but it was hard not to in those moments, where she was faced with the idea that she might damn well consider going after a serial killer just to make sure he didn't have to do anything that was going to emotionally harm him. She wasn't even worried about the physical harm, even if she should be. That she could accept. But that wasn't the truth and she understood that. Brett could handle himself and even if Andrei was a psycho, Brett was enough of a survivor that he wouldn't go down easily and he'd do what he needed to. She didn't want him to need to.
As he deepened the kiss, he pulled her to her feet, bringing her against him, holding her there, knowing that there was a whole lot right now that he couldn't say. A whole lot about how afraid he was, about how he couldn't lose her, about how she meant too much to him, about how much he needed her and about how nothing was more important than making sure that she was alright and couldn't she just let him do that. But she wouldn't be her if she just rolled over and let him order her around. That was something he appreciated about her, but it didn't make it any less frustrating to deal with. What was less hard to deal with was the equanimity he felt at acknowledging all of that to himself. A few months, maybe even weeks ago, he would have panicked, have pushed her away simply for the fact that she made him feel this way. But now, he could accept it all, at least to himself. He didn't want to voice any of it, he didn't want to have to try and tell her, didn't want her to realise the potential power she held over him, wasn't ready for that kind of openness and vulnerability. But, within himself, he wouldn't try and pretend that it wasn't real.
It was such a strange thing, to be throwing her energy into things, giving back everything he was giving her, pressing against him in a way that was now familiar, even if there was still that spark of tension and passion to it that hadn't faded. And then on the other hand, internally flailing. Because it was still there, held in check, but barely so, and she wasn't entirely certain that she was going to manage to keep it held back. Maybe if she just did this, and she could stop feeling it on an emotional level and concentrated on the physical she'd be okay.
She'd been just fine dealing with her emotions for a while, even if they were overwhelming at times and she didn't have nearly the control she once had, but right then she felt like everything was out of control, and everything was spinning. She'd been just fine but not right now. Right now she was seeing things a little more clearly, or maybe she was just truly taking a stark look instead of just accepting things were there and she didn't have to think about them. It was there, it was fine, she liked him, she wanted to be with him, she didn't like the idea of him not being in her life. But she didn't spend time honestly assessing that. She didn't sit around and think about what any of that really meant. Right now it was in fairly stark prominence in her mind and that urge to leave was kicking in again. Just for wholly different reasons. So she could get her shit together, maybe. Sort of put things back into their nicely vague box and not be so overwhelmed. Eris was just pretty sure if she made a break for the door right now it wasn't going to go over well. And there was that other part of her that was telling herself to stop thinking at all, just go with everything else, it all felt good. She liked being where she was, she liked kissing him with the kind of abandon she was. She just had to hold out. In theory.
He drew the kiss out to its natural end, enjoying every moment of it, one fist twisting into her hair, pulling just enough, not too much as his other hand gripped her waist, fingers biting in a little, holding her tightly against him. He pulled his head back, just an inch or so, enough to look down at her, his eyes dark, his breath a little heavier. He didn't say anything, right now, he didn't want to speak, almost didn't trust himself enough to do so. So, instead, he paused, toying with the idea of kissing her again.
Yes, she couldn't deal with silence. Or not having something else to concentrate on that wasn't the noise in her head. That little cacophony that was saying a whole lot that she wasn't at all okay with right now. So she had two choices. She could break it off and try to leave--something she very much knew was not only not going to be tolerated well but would probably make things tense between them again, or she could go the other way. He'd left her a little breathless, and she let her fingernails dig in slightly against his shoulder. "Is that all you've got?" she asked, voice a little rough. She was pretty certain he'd be able to knock all the messy thought out of her head at least for a little while. Especially with the little rougher touches thrown in.
Brett didn't need to hear the challenge twice, nor did it even occur to him that she may have ulterior motives for issuing it. The words had hardly left her mouth when it was covered with a bruising kiss as he backed her up until she was pressed between him and the desk, his hand tightening even more in her hair, his other hand sweeping the papers aside as he both pulled and pushed her backwards onto the surface, following her down without breaking the kiss.
Eris pushed at his shoulder, struggled a little, enough to make the move he pulled a little more difficult, though when he pushed everything off of the desk without care, that actually did succeed for the most part in knocking her thoughts off their kilter in her head. Quite abruptly, there were More Pressing Issues to be concerned with, and she threw her concentration into that, blissfully so.
He held her down against the desk with one hand as he pulled her head back with the other, stretching her neck out for him as he moved down to kiss the column there, scraping with his teeth, but stopping shy of actually marking her. It was too much of a public place now, and they did have an agreement. Lifting his face from her neck, he looked up at her. "What exactly do you want?" he asked her, in a low tone which suggested that if he wasn't enough for her then she better be really damn specific.
She was actually almost waiting for him to sink his teeth in, to mark her. She liked when he did that, he just wasn't supposed to. Though there was alwasy a thrill when he did. So when he didn't, she made a light little sound. When he spoke, she turned her head a little, pulling against his grip as she struggled a little again, like she was making an attempt to get away--even if that was the last thing she wanted. She said the first thing that came to mind. "I want to be made yours." she told him. "Find a way."
"Princess, I don't think I could make you do anything," he growled, but all the same, he pushed down against her struggles, gripping the edge of her top in hand even as he did so and pulling downwards, stretching and then pulling the fabric until there was the unmistakable sound of ripping as more skin was bared and he lowered his mouth to the flesh revealed there.
You'd be surprised. went through her mind, but she didn't say it, not wanting to distract herself or him for that matter. Not from this. She shifted after a momentary pause, right when he ripped her top, though she was moving again and struggling against him when he lowered his head back down. She dug her nails into the back of his arm and dragged them down, scratching enough to leave welts, though not more than that. She liked when he ripped her clothes, she didn't want to deter that.
He let go of her hair and moved his arm down her body, sliding it up under her skirt and bunching the material up as he moved up her leg, pushing her further back onto the desk with his body, pressing hard against her. He continued to pull against her top, finally giving a hard yank and ripping it down to her waist, since she hadn't stopped him when he'd started that. His mouth followed, until he got to a point he figured was private enough, half way down the left side of the front of her rib cage, and then he bit down, sucking even as he did so, now wanting to mark her.
Her wardrobe didn't survive these kinds of encounters with him, and she was not thinking she was ever going to grow weary of it. And when he did bite down, she drew in a sharp breath, and her hand found his hair and she fisted her fingers into it, feeling that sharp spike of pain from it. After all, there was less flesh there than where he usually bit in, and there was a part of her that was feeling a rush just from the experience, and the knowledge that he was going to leave a mark of some kind, even if it wasn't ever going to be visible to anyone but him.
He bit down a little harder when he heard the noise, knowing that it wasn't at all a complaint. He knew her now, he knew how she actually felt about this, and he only drew back when he was confident he'd leave a mark, pausing momentarily to check that he had, in fact, done just that before he actually released her for a moment, but only long enough that he could push her skirt up the rest of the way to her waist and then, in one fluid motion, he stepped back and flipped her over, so that she was lying on her front, bared chest pressed down against the desk, one hand moving to between her shoulder blades to make damn sure that she stayed there as the other went to his belt.
Eris quite enjoyed that. It was there in the appreciative almost laugh that she gave. She in general enjoyed the way he did things, and right now that was especially prominent. She liked him taking that control, taking liberties, doing things without any hesitation. He was a powerful man in general, and she liked these specific displays of that. She tried to push up a little, to prop herself up on her elbows, knowing he was just going to push her down harder on the desk, but she couldn't go about making it easy for him. That wouldn't be any fun at all.
He did, in fact, push her back down again, but he liked that she didn't just give up, the fight was all part and parcel of the fun, the games they played, it added an edge to things. Pushing his pants down, his fingers finding their way to her, he leaned over her, pressing himself against her back, his breath hot in her ear. "You're mine," he told her, roughly, his voice almost gravelly. "And I can have you whenever I want, however I want."
So, she'd put that challenge out there, and it had been for an entirely different reason but she decided all at once that good goddamn did she like the result. She tried to push her shoulder back up against him, head turned towards where he was speaking. "Can you?" she asked, pushing back again, using her arms for leverage, not that she wanted to get anywhere with that. But she kept wanting to make it harder for him, to make him work for it. And she was happily completely involved with the entire scenario.
He lifted his hand from her back, but only to reach round enough to grab one of her wrists, bringing it round to her back, then quickly doing the same to the other before pinning both of them firm against the small of her back, pressing her down. "Yes," he told her, glad she hadn't just submitted to that, that she'd challenged him even there and then. "I can," he said, as he pushed his hips forward, pressing against her.
She tried to pull her wrists from his grip, but that didn't work out for her. Not that she actually wanted it to, either. she really didn't. So mostly she trusted that he had a better advantage, and he wasn't about to let her go. When he pressed against her, she struggled more, trying to shift her hips though that wasn't happening either. But she made the attempt, even trying to push herself back up to a standing position even if that was probably physically impossible at current. Especially with ehr arms behind her back. "Prove it." she managed to say, tone a little breathless, from all the struggling and the position. And possibly the mood attatched to both.
His intention wasn't to hurt her. Well, not really anyhow. Not in any way that she wouldn't enjoy, and this was about her enjoyment as well as his. If she wasn't into this, that wasn't good for him. But time enough had shown their preferences, and he was confident that, as much as she may struggle now, it wasn't because she wanted him to stop. So, he didn't even pause as he took up her challenge, pushing her back down again and thrusting forward and into her, leaning down over her back once again as he did so, pinning her down with his entire body this time.
Eris let out a sharp cry at that, and reveled in it. Sure, they were in the office, sure they weren't going to get walked in on due to the 'hey no one fucking comes up here without being announced and approved first' thing, but it was nice all the same. There was still that element to it. Plus, it just all felt good, flat out. Which didn't mean she didn't still struggle, but that was all part of it. For the both of them. She tried hard wrench one of her wrists free, not expecting to get anywhere with it.
"You're mine," Brett growled as he began to move, his voice deep and low, his movements deliberate, paced, designed to make her want more, to hold something back. "Tell me, admit it," he demanded.
It of course worked, she did want more, she was left with that feeling of things not quite being what they were meant to be, and it was delightful in it's own way, a level of frustrating that heightened everything. She gave another hard struggle against him. "No." she told him, though it was less a statement and more a roughly exhaled word that came between other gasps.
He grinned, having anticipated that would be her answer, and, as usual, she didn't disappoint. He gave her more of what he's been holding back, but not all of it, still pinning her down, her hands trapped between them. "Say it," he demanded. He had no actual idea if she would, in truth, their relationship didn't really work that way, with one 'belonging' to the other, but she'd asked him for it and, as he demanded it, he realized that he wanted it to be true. Not because he wanted to possess her, but because he wanted all of her, the way - whether she knew it or not - she had all of him.
It took her a second to actually answer, she was a little busy trying to catch her breath which was much more difficult when he pushed things further. "Make me." she said when she finally did have the breath for it, and she pushed hard against the desk, struggling with a renewed vigor--though she still didn't want to get free. She wanted to know what he would do to her. What he might do to make her. She could even think of a few things. There were the obvious, but there were creative ones too. Like inking his name across her back, since there was ink on the desk. But that was just something that passed through her own mind. Something that came up entirely situationally.
Brett let out a growl of frustration at that, and for a moment he considered going along with it, trying to make her say it. Only he realized that he didn't want that. That, for all their games, their standard way of playing, that was a touch too far. Maybe it was just where his mind was at right now, but he didn't want to force anything from her, he wanted her to want it. But that didn't mean he was giving up entirely, as he slowed and pulled back, standing up straight and letting her wrists go, simply keeping one hand lightly resting against her back, yet no longer really actively holding her down. "No," he told her simply, stilling altogether.
Not expecting that at all, Eris wasn't expecting it. She pulled her hands back in front of her, pushing up a little and she looked back over her shoulder at him, a light little whine articulated. "No?" she asked, feeling like she'd missed a step. Like something had switched up and no one had warned her first, or told her about the change in the game. And, considering how off balance she'd been before she'd opted to throw herself into oblivion, it wasn't hard for that to rush right back in, leaving her feeling vulnerable, and confused, all sorts of things. Just go back to what you were doing, Brett. Please.
Brett met her eyes as he curled his fingers round, his blunt nails scrapping against the skin of her back as he rotated his hips, just a little, just enough for her to feel that. "No," he repeated. "Not gonna force you. You wanna be made mine? Give yourself to me." It could be reluctant. In fact he figured that it would be, anticipated the back and forth, should it come. But he didn't want to force her.
She hung her head back down, hair falling around her shoulders and she made a soft sound. Give yourself to me. Because it was that easy, right? She could have said it, would have had an easier time with it, if he'd gotten it out of her another way. But she guessed that was why she'd presented it as a challenge. Because then it could be said, but she didn't have to be responsible for it. And right then, she was far too vulnerable. Not with how she'd been feeling, with all those overwhelming emotions hitting her all at once. She knew she needed to respond, and that it was probably ridiculous of her to hesitate now, but she did. Maybe it was the truth of it. Which made it ridiculous on another level because it was true. Hell, hadn't she said it before at some point? She was sure she had. She couldn't recall when, though. Not that she had a perfect memory or anything.
He leaned forward enough to slip an arm around her waist, his other fisting into her hair before he used both to lift her up off the desk, pulling her upright rather more. Most of her weight was supported on the arm around her waist, but there was tension on her hair, enough that he knew it would hurt, but not too much, as he spoke into her ear, his voice harsh and demanding. "This is nothing new, Princess. We're been here before - say it," he demanded, wanting to hear it from her, but using the positioning, the pain, his tone to give her that little get out.
She made another little cry when he pulled her up, pulling a little against his grip in her hair even if it already hurt that little bit. Her breathing was ragged, and she listened to him. She loved hearing him like that. But she didn't believe him. Or more, she recognized that something was different with her in those moments. They'd been there before, sure. But it was new on her end. Kind of. Maybe it wasn't, and it was more just she understood herself and her relations with him better. In a sharp, hugely unignorable way that was making her want to pretend she hadn't thought about it at all. She reached down to dig her nails into his forearm, the one around her waist, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She told herself that he wasn't going to know any different. That he probably hadn't noticed anything going on with her at all. But she knew it for herself and that made a difference to her. "Say what?" she asked, playing for just another moment. So she could get herself to a place where she could.
He started to move again, still clutching her around the waist, pulling her upright, his hand still fisted in her hair, making sure she couldn't drop her head at all. He leaned against her, the position not the easiest one to maintain, though he thought the payoff was definitely worth it. Or it would be if she'd play ball. "That you're mine, Princess," he told her, though another name rose in his mind. He almost said it, but no - that was too much. For him, that was too much, a step too far. Even here and now, where he'd accepted the importance of hearing her admit that she was his, something that would have sent him running just weeks ago. He still had his vulnerabilities, after all.
It was said in between shuddered breaths, even if she knew the answer wasn't going to be quite good enough. But part of her at least recognized that they were still in the middle of some kind of a game. So she gave him an answer but not quite the one he wanted. "I am." she told him, admittedly having more difficulty concentrating with what he was doing for her--and that actually helped her disposition. She needed not to be looking at everything so closely. She needed to just go back to oblivious land, and call it good.
"Not good enough, Princess - try again," Brett told her, with the same tone, carrying on exactly with what he was doing. "Say it," he repeated.
Eris didn't say it immediately. She let herself feel everything first, let herself fall into that more firmly, distancing herself from the sentiments that had hit so hard earlier. Enough so she could. She turned her head, pulling against his grip in her hair, towards him, back over her shoulder as much as she could manage. She still left it another few moments, breath not getting any more even while she did it, but she made an attempt to say things with a steady tone--she just failed at that. "I'm yours." she told him.
He kissed her as she said it, rhythm faltering and dying as he did so, giving everything over to the kiss instead, as though the two words were everything to him in that moment. He had no idea how this had happened. To him of all people, him who never let anyone in, and yet this woman had got passed his defences so completely.
She didn't know what it was that stood out. What brought all that emotional flailing and everything that caused it rushing back in again, but something about the way he kissed her then, how he'd stopped everything to do that...it did. All that effort she'd been putting into putting herself back into denial shattered and she was right back in that place. She'd expected him to push her back down, into 'her place' as it were, to keep going with things that he'd stopped earlier, because she'd given him what he wanted. Because she lost the game, as it were. But that really didn't happen, and then he was kissing her. It was overwhelming, everything playing in at once and she wasn't at all sure how to deal with it or understand what it meant she just definitely got that it meant something. She did the only thing she could do which was kiss him back. And since he'd stopped anyways, she found herself shifting to turn to face him, to kiss him in a less awkward position, so she could put her arms up around his neck and throw herself into that.
When he realised what she was doing, Brett let her go and gave her just enough room to move, though he didn't break the kiss and the moment she was round, her pressed back in against her again, pulling her close to him, his eyes closed as he gave his all to it, not thinking about anything else but being in the moment.
This definitely felt different than normal. Maybe because he generally concentrated on everything else, and while they did kiss pretty often and all, there happened to be one hell of a lot going into this one. Not that he was alone in it because she was doing the same--it was that or run. Absolutely cut and run and she didn't even know where she would go. But there was a huge part of her that alongside of the panic didn't want to leave. That wanted to stay right where she was, and kiss him like she needed it to survive. Like that was more important than anything else. That was the part that won out, even as she pushed back up against him, even if it wasn't for anything more than that contact, even if part of her realized they'd actually stopped in the middle of intimacy just to kiss each other.
It was a long time before he finally lifted his head from hers, not far, an inch or two so that he could look her in the eyes, his own usually bright blue eyes dark, though with a spark in them that wasn't usually present. He smiled, just a little, but it was there, and opened his mouth to say something, though it was a moment or two before he got his words together enough that they came out, and there was a suggestion that a lot of potential words had been rejected first. "Good girl," he finally settled on, figuring that was safe, if nothing else.
She watched his eyes, trying to read them. There was something in there, and she felt again like that panic might set in. Because all of this added together in such strange, terrifying ways. The kiss, the look in his eyes now, the way it looked to her like he had to choose what he said. Contrary to that thread of fear tethered in her chest, she found herself smiling a bit at his words. Good girl. A little reward for her efforts. And they had been considerable efforts. Though now she seemed to be existing in something like the eye of the storm. Or maybe there was just so much, so many emotions all mixed in together that her brain damaged mind just gave up for the moment. Like she didn't feel them any less but her reactions to them were altered from what she might assume she would do. Like staying where she was, tracing her fingertips back and forth along his spine as she gazed into his eyes, and not, say, turning to leave and leave fast. "What do I get?" she asked, tone almost distant to herself even if it came out a little rough, a little needy, maybe. But then with everything he'd been doing to her, that was normal, right?
He took a moment to look at her, to savour the view before he answered. He felt calm, almost warm. For the first time in a long time - it was almost peaceful. No, that's exactly what it was. This was, in his opinion, a nice place to be. Like the war within him had quietened for a while. Maybe not gone entirely, but faded to the background. It was an unusual feeling and far, far from unpleasant. "Whatever you want," he promised her, meaning every word.
"What if I want you?" she asked. not thinking through the statement before she made it, not examining it even though she knew it was far too close to everything she was trying so hard to avoid right now. She just didn't know what to do, how else to react, so she was doing what felt natural, even if there was still that screaming alarms in her head over it. Those ones that were still there even if she wasn't properly reacting to them, or even acknowledging them right then. Everything was just a little strange.
He smiled, and it came easily, naturally. He definitely felt warm and he shifted his arms slightly, to hold her more. "Done," he said, simply. After all, he was already hers, he knew that. He thought that he'd even told her that in the past, but then again, they seemed to be re-establishing ground here today.
"Are you going to say it?" she asked, arching a brow. And part of her was thinking that was a crazy thing to ask, because he might say it, and then what was she going to do? She was still trying to deal while understanding she needed a hell of a lot more time and rationality to manage it. But there was that little quiet, that eye of the storm thing. Maybe if she could maintain that, she'd be okay. Not that she imagined she'd be able to do that all that effectively. But there was a large enough part of her that didn't want to ruin this. Even if all the implications that made were pretty terrifying for her.
Brett's smile turned to more of a smirk as he looked down at her wryly, but he took the question as her wanting from him what he'd demanded from her. "If you want me, I'm yours," he told her. He'd had his panic about this whole situation before, at the point where he'd been trying to deny that they had a 'relationship' at all. He'd had his panic and come to terms with it, now everything else - well, there had been a reason he'd been edging around the whole thing in the first place. Because he knew how this was meant to go, he knew what the typical track of a relationship was. And when he'd accepted that that was, in fact, what they were doing, he'd accepted and opened himself up to the possibility of the rest of it. That had been his huge leap off the cliff, his acceptance that he didn't know what he'd find at the bottom.
You mean that, don't you. was what went through her head. Which was a bit ridiculous. She'd asked, he'd said it, and he had that smirk on his lips so maybe he was just paying lip service. That was possible. But it felt like he meant it. Like it felt like when she'd said it she'd meant it, and there was a whole lot of heavy fucking meaning going thrown around all over the goddamn place and it felt like it was all happening too fast. Which she was also aware was absolutely ridiculous because they'd been at this for what felt like a long time now, and she'd been perfectly fine with following things out to wherever they went, not putting limits on things. Her problem was she just hadn't considered the possibility that she'd get where she found herself now. A place that, in Eris' mind, didn't even actually exist, so it was pretty jarring to even consider any of it. She kissed him, because if she didn't she was going to say something. And she didn't trust anything that might come out of her mouth. Nothing at all. She'd fuck up one way or another, that was for damn sure.
He returned the kiss with some intensity. Just because they'd just had what he could possibly term a moment, that didn't mean he was going to go all mushy on her or have some kind of personality transplant. And anyway, he wanted to kiss her, much as he'd done earlier, and as with earlier, he put things he didn't much want to say into it as he pushed her back against the desk, pressing against her, returning to bury a hand in her hair once more, tilting her head to once side a little further as he did so, taking back that control he'd let slip.
She wanted the intensity. If he did have some sudden penchant for sweet and gentle she'd have pushed for something different immediately. While they'd done that, at the moment that was the last thing in the world she could handle. She really probably would make that attempt to cut and run if he'd behaved differently, but he didn't, so that helped. She pulled a little against his hand in her hair, she pushed against him even if she was pinned against the desk...all those little cues that signaled that she wasn't about to go mushy either. God no.
Her actions had him deepening the kiss more, reaching down to push her knee outwards, showing no signs of actually intending to stop anything this time, using her effort to push away from the desk and against him to his best advantage.
That she could go with. That was much better, she felt a little safer in the idea that he wasn't going to change the rules on her and not play the game as intended. So she could go with it. She could try to let go again, to drift back, to forget everything else going on. Lose herself in him and be happy with that. And hope to hell that things didn't get brought back up again later--but this was Brett, she didn't think it would happen. He wasn't overly taken with discussion of these kinds of things.