Try Again

Who: Brett and Eris
Where: Their place
When: late

Eris had gotten back earlier, though Brett had been gone. The people at the front desk had given her the keys, which he'd left for her, apparently. This she didn't consider a good sign. It had taken her quite a while to get inside, since both sets of doors were locked, and so she had to keep trying keys until she found the right one. In the end, even if she wanted to lock the doors to feel a little safer, even if there wasn't any trace of the flowers or anything, she didn't lock them again. It would take a long time to figure out how, and would take even longer to unlock them once he was back. So she'd left them where he usually did, on the table by the door, and then she'd gone into the bedroom, through to the bathroom and laid down in the bathtub. She had the gun he'd given her with her, and the card Bright had given her. There was a pillow, too, from the couch. All of the lights were off, and she watched the light slowly fade away and then die entirely as night fell.

Night and he wasn't back yet. She wondered if he was gone. If he'd decided fuck it, he was done with her, and that was it. It was entirely possible, she knew. Especially considering how things had been between them lately. How off, and at this point she didn't even know if she understood why anymore. She laid there, hidden from view, watching the ceiling as she turned Bright's card over and over in her fingers. One edge of it was burned. She'd lit a candle earlier, planning to just burn it and be done with the stupid little thing, forget all about it, but after a few moments she'd changed her mind, and put it out. So she was there, quiet as the dead, still turning that card around and around as she waited. Even if she wasn't at all convinced Brett would be returning.

He'd left it until some time after dark before he'd headed back. A substantial part of him didn't believe that she would be there. Some of him didn't know what to do if she was. At one point he'd decided that he didn't care if she was: he wasn't going back there. But then time had past, and night had fallen, and if she was there, she'd be on her own, and that brought twitches that had increased until he found himself driving towards their apartment. All in all, Brett Trent was in a very unhappy place with regards to the state of the thing that, for a fleeting few hours at least, he'd begun to think of as his relationship. Now he didn't know what it was and he wondered if he'd been fooling himself for those few hours, and if he was being even more of a fool now, heading back to her.

He'd found out that she'd got back before him when he got into the building and was informed that she'd taken the keys, so there was no surprise when he got up there. What was slightly odd though was the fact that all the lights were out, and the doors all unlocked. It put him on guard and he loosened his gun at his waist as he ghosted from room to room, looking for her, listening for any intruders. If someone else had got up here, heads were going to fucking roll downstairs. They would learn to take him seriously if they hadn't already got that fucking message.

The bedroom was the last place he checked - but only because he worked his way through the place methodically, and that was the furthest away. Sure, he'd known that possibly she would just be asleep in bed, yet at the same time, he hadn't wanted that to be the case. She'd come back, that meant that she'd come home of her own volition, without him having to bring her back. To do that and then fall asleep like nothing had happened... There was a reason he'd preferred to jump to the conclusion that someone else had gotten in, fucked up as that was.

She wasn't in the bed, and Brett ignored the stab of relief that warred with the stab of worry and he headed towards the bathroom, memory rising to tell him that there was a good chance he actually knew where she was. Or, rather, exactly what she'd be doing. The rest of the apartment was empty, after all, and there was no signs of a struggle.

He pushed open the bathroom door and scanned his eyes quickly over the darkened room, just for a moment before walking entirely in and flipping the light on, his eyes dropping to the tub. Right, of course, her old favourite. Things went south, she felt endangered - she went and hid in the bathtub. He neither felt nor looked surprised. He held out a hand to help her up, and it was then he noticed the card in her fingers. "What's that?" he asked, wondering if Volkov had left another calling card.

Eris winced with the sudden light, though she had heard his approach. She put her hand up to block the light, and looked past it to Brett. She didn't say anything, because she seriously didn't know what to say. What could she say? What was there? She didn't know. So she just looked up at him. "The light is hurting my eyes." she said, voice quiet. Subdued, in an odd little way.

Brett shifted enough so that his shadow fell across her, his body getting in the way of the light. He noted that she didn't answer his question, which didn't help his mood at all, his expression stony. "What's that?" he repeated, gesturing to the card.

"A card." she told him, reaching up to take his hand to help herself sit up. But she didn't actually move to get up out of the tub. She looked at the card again, turning it over, watching more of the burned edge flake off. "Someone recognized me from the Round. He wants to do duets." she said, and saying it out loud like that, it just sounded ridiculous. Like it was just some silly little line and she'd allowed herself to get drawn in by it because it was something she'd wanted to hear. Pathetic. Slumping back against the side of the tub, she looked down at the card again. Bright. Piano player. He'd had a lot of things to say about her singing. But it was probably all just bullshit. It was how you put hooks into anyone. You told them what they wanted to hear. It was just how that shit worked.

A line was just how Brett took it and his face darkened for a moment. It was eminently possible that his mood and concerns right now were tainting his reactions. "How nice for you," he told her, an edge of sarcasm in his voice as he dropped her hand. She'd been lying here, in the dark, in a safe place - which said to him that she'd been scared - and yet she'd kept hold of the card from some random man she'd met who wanted to do 'duets' with her. Right. He turned and started out of the bathroom.

It wasn't like it was the first time Brett had said something to her that was along the mean side. For quite a long time, that was sort of the default for him. But considering where they were, how stressful everything had been, and how embarrassed she felt herself over things, she really didn't take his comment well. To her, it was like he was confirming she was stupid, that he thought she was, and any lingering hope that she wasn't and the guy was serious died right there. It also served to make her believe that what he'd told her before about her being any good as a singer wasn't quite true. If he couldn't believe for even a second that anyone might want to work with her. All in all, the end result was Eris felt very very hurt and while she'd already been feeling vulnerable. She didn't stop him leaving the room. She stayed where she was, and wondered if she was going to leave, and if she did, if she'd be back.

He headed out into the living room and poured himself a whiskey. A large measure, though he put the bottle back and walked away after, heading over to the window to look out over the night, taking a sip of the drink and then just holding the rest. He wasn't out for drowning his sorrows tonight, but he needed something in the face of that fact that she'd gone out, left him, met some guy who had fed her a line, had hooked her in exactly the right place, who'd obviously caught her attention enough that she hadn't been able to let go of his damn card. He had no idea where that left him. But then, when she'd walked out on him that morning... Nothing was what he thought it was. He'd finally opened himself up to something, after all these fucking years and now this. This was why he didn't do this - he was no good at being hurt.

Eris reached over to the matches that were by the side of the tub, and picked them up, lighting one as she held it in front of her eyes, watching it burn down the stick towards her fingers. Then she put the card into the flame, and this time let it burn entirely, only dropping the match and the card when she absolutely had to, fingers burning just a touch before she did either. And there went her hopes. With them, she was thinking the idea of the club was a stupid one as well. What was the point, if he'd just been humoring her to start with on things. As far as she knew that had been part of the draw. But then she didn't really feel like she knew much of anything anymore. Her perceptions were once again suspect. She didn't think she'd taken her medication this morning. And she knew she hadn't taken it tonight. But she sure as hell wasn't going to ask him for it either. In fact, she wasn't even sure she was leaving the tub.

He should just leave, he knew. Do what he always did and cut things off, cauterise them. It was a whole lot less painful in the long run. Hell, anyone else and he would have been long gone by now. Which, really, begged the question of what the hell he was still doing here. he glanced back towards the bedroom and shook his head, taking another drink and feeling it burn down his throat. He looked back out at the night again. He was a fool, a fucking fool and he knew he wasn't going to leave. Maybe it was some masochistic streak, or maybe it was because he'd been able to leave all the others because they'd been chosen with leaving in mind. He'd made it easy on himself. And this was anything but.

Eris got out of the tub, but it was only to turn the light back off before she got back into it. There, she curled on her side, back to the room. Closing her eyes, she needed a minute. Or possibly more than a minute. For the first time in a while the idea of disappearing was looming in the back of her mind. Just leaving, taking off, dropping off the face of the planet. And while the danger of imminent death due to O'Malley involvement wasn't there anymore, she still knew she wouldn't actually make it that long. Still, that idea was there. She felt a whole lot like there wasn't anything else to hang on to. And Brett...he wasn't happy with her anyways. That much was stunningly obvious.

He took his time, drinking methodically, though not at all with an intent of savouring the flavour. He finished the glass because he felt the need for that alcohol content, it didn't really matter what it was. And then he stood for a few minutes more, staring out into the darkness before he turned and headed for the kitchen, opening cupboards and counting out her pills into a small glass. He filled another with water. She hadn't taken them this morning, he'd been lax lately. If he wasn't going to do the smart thing and leave, then he should just get on with what he needed to do here. Business partner, guard dog, nursemaid. He turned and headed back to the bathroom, this time not switching on the light, but letting the light from the bedroom stream through the doorway instead.

She flinched slightly when she saw the light come on again, even if it was indirect. She could see it in a lopsided rectangle on the wall, and she knew he was back, heard his footsteps, but she didn't turn to look at him. It was possible he just had to use the facilities, after all. Or that he was back to ridicule her more. She wasn't sure, and she couldn't summon up much in the way of concern. She'd definitely hit a point where she didn't care right now.

"You need to take your pills," he told her, after she didn't even look at him when he walked in. He looked for the card, but he didn't see it. She'd finally deemed to put it down them. Maybe she'd just made her point - wanted him to see it. Wanted him to ask. Wanted him to know about the guy.

What for? And aren't they gone yet? she thought, but didn't say. She also didn't move immediately. When she did, it was sort of slowly, sitting up and looking towards him but not upwards, which she didn't need to do anyhow. She saw the two glasses, and she reached out to take them, still wondering if she was leaving tonight. She might be. She could also smell whiskey. Apparently there was a new bottle of it in the house. Sounded like a good idea to her. But it might take effort to go find. It would mean she'd have to get up and leave the bathroom. And she really wasn't sure if she started leaving where she was just this second that she'd be staying at all.

Brett was aware of the faint smell of burning in the air, even if he couldn't see a cause for it. It was an irritation at the back of an already unhappy mind as he handed over the pills. "Do me a favour," he almost growled, though his voice didn't quite reach anger, more straight up unhappiness. "When you do your 'duets' don't bring him back here," he told her. It had been a line, and either she'd fallen for it and there was this new guy on the scene, or else she hadn't and she just wanted him to know about it anyway. Either way, she knew he got jealous - and more so right now, when he was so utterly insecure about his actual position in her life. Bringing the idea of a guy, any guy, into things right now was fucking his head up even further.

That had her looking up at him again. There was a set to her jaw that indicated she was upset, not that that had been hidden well to start with. But she looked up at him, and didn't say anything immediately. When she did, her voice was distant still, light. "Now why would I do that." she said. "It won't happen anyways. It was just a line, right?" she asked, shaking her head. "No one would ever actually want to do anything like that with me. It was just bullshit." she told him, this time nodding her head. "Right?"

"Just because it was a line doesn't mean to say it won't happen," he told her, hating the fact that she was asking him for reassurance on this. About the interest of some other guy, who knew she was damn well good enough that he could use that to get to her. Some guy that had managed to press all the right fucking buttons and now she was asking him, because nobody asked any kind of question that ended in 'right' unless they wanted to be agreed with. well, she could do it. She could go and meet up with this guy and she could sing with him and she could fucking fall into bed with him the way he'd clearly intended with a line like that - she could do whatever the fuck she wanted to do. Just as long as she didn't do it right under his damn nose.

She got up out of the tub, and moved to push past him. She managed to bite her tongue on the sharp 'fuck you' that was on her lips. She needed a drink. Or something. She didn't know what. There was no plan. She'd left the ashes of the card in the bottom of the tub with the burned matchstick, along with anything resembling some lingering belief in herself with things, and it was for the best, but that didn't mean it didn't suck. Or that it wasn't painful. Eris didn't deal with painful well.

He caught her arm as she went to move past him, holding her in place, though not hard enough to keep her there if she made even the slightest effort to get out of it. He wasn't aiming for a repeat of the other night, his face still held the dying yellow of the bruising. "Don't bullshit me," he told her, quietly. "I know you didn't mean what you said the other night - don't do that again. You didn't have to do that in the first place. Never do that again." he didn't add an 'or else', because or else what? He'd shown himself incapable of walking away. He wasn't going to hurt her. All threats towards her would be empty shells. She had him by the balls and he knew it. All he could do was ask.

She did wrench away though harder than she needed to, and she stumbled slightly, reaching out to catch herself on the counter. She looked at him frowning still, and unfortunately there was a confusion in there. "I don't know what you're talking about." she said, and not in a way where she was trying to be coy or trying to get out of something, she really didn't know what he was saying. "What didn't I mean? What am I not supposed to do again?"

"Just because I was drunk, you didn't have to go and tell me things just... Why the hell did you do that anyway?" he asked her, not reaching to help her as she stumbled. "Because I was drinking? Trying to get me to stop? What was that? Was it just what you thought I wanted to hear or something? You know - I bought it. All of it. And I thought... You know what, doesn't matter. Doesn't fucking matter," he said, feeling like he'd already said way too much as he turned and walked into the bedroom.

Eris was still lost. She felt like she was in a play, but she didn't know her lines, and she didn't even really know the plot. She watched him walk into the bedroom and left it for a moment, then she followed him. "I still don't know what I'm meant to have...have lied about?" she asked, that note of confusion still there in her voice. "What did I tell you that you don't believe? And why would I start lying to you now?" since really, she didn't even really need to know what it was she was meant to have lied about, she knew she hadn't lied about shit.

He turned back to face her. "Us. All of that. What you said. I believed you. I meant what I said. I thought we were going to talk and we did, at first - and then before we really got anywhere, you changed the fucking subject and you've been avoiding it ever since and then you left. And when you came back, you had some musician guy's number and I hope you're fucking happy together," he told her, his tone finally edging out of depression into full blown anger with the last few words.

She stared at him. There was shock on her features, that much was very clear. She blinked, just staring for a few long moments. "I went for a walk." she told him. "I came the fuck back, if you hadn't noticed." she added. "And yes, I happened to run into someone who recognized me today, that doesn't mean--" she broke off, back to staring, though there was less shock now and it was edging into other things. Mixed emotions that included anger and hurt. "You really think that, don't you." she said, tone unquestioning. "You think that I just went for a walk today, to try and get my head clear after that fucking 'gift' this morning, to give myself some time to deal, and I just went off with the first guy who spoke to me. That I'm..." she trailed off, shaking her head a little. "Wow." she said, still being hit by that realization.

"I don't know what to think, sweetheart," Brett told her. "I thought we had something, I thought we were getting somewhere and then... You know, at the time, I thought that that night was real, that everything else was just bullshit getting in the way. And, since then, it's felt the other way round. Like that night must have been the bullshit, because now everything's gone right back to the way it always was before."

"It looks one hell of a lot like that from this end too." Eris snapped. "and no, actually, I don't think you don't know what to think, you seem to have your opinions firmly the fuck in mind. And all of them add up to 'she's a bitch' right? And apparently a tramp while I'm at it, because hey--why not. I've got a past. And the fact that I was the highest priced fucking whore in the city and wouldn't go near anyone who couldn't pay that really of course lends itself to the notion that I'd just shack up with the first guy to cross my path that isn't you. Makes perfect sense."

It might make sense to her, but it was actually not a reason that had crossed Brett's mind. Not until she said it, that was, and his jaw dropped, stalling him firmly in his path. It took him a moment to recover, but only a moment. "You're a beautiful woman - any guy would jump at the chance of being with you and a guy feeds you a line about how he's a fucking singer or musician or something, because he's heard you and that's an obvious in for anyone who can make it work. And it's obviously got you because - how long were you holding the card, sweetheart? Or did you just pick it up when you heard me come in? How much of an impression did this guy make on you? And you wonder why I think that you..."

"I am aware that guys are going to want to hit on me, Brett, thank you. That doesn't mean that I swoon at the first fucking hint. And it also doesn't mean that my having just given up the only thing I ever really enjoyed, and possibly had the shred of a hope that I might be able to it again automatically means that I'd be falling into bed with anyone and fuck you for thinking it." she snapped. "How long was I holding his card? Do you even know how long I've been home? Could have been five fucking minutes for all you know. And that still doesn't even goddamn mean it has anything to do with him in the first place. I just wanted to--" she started but broke off. That vulnerability was leaking in again and she knew what happened with it last time. So, right. She shut that down before she got any further with it, and started to head out to the living room. Whether she was stopping there or not she had no idea.

"Wanted to what?" Brett asked her, following on her heels, because he wanted to know where that sentence ended, because, dammit, there was still a part of him that wanted to her her say that he was wrong, and to show him that he was wrong. Because he didn't like any of this. He wanted the other night to have been as real as he'd thought it was. It just seemed that every moment they were together since then had made that conversation seem a little more like a complete fucking illusion.

"Why the fuck should I tell you?" Eris said, spotting the bottle where it was and she went directly for it, grabbing it and she didn't bother with a glass as she headed towards the window. It was kind of a near thing though, she really wanted to head for the door. And sadly, she couldn't really come up with much of a reason why she wasn't. "You've already made up your mind on everything, you've apparently figured it all out, I'm just a fucking bitch slut and...well that's pretty much it." she said. "Wait, tack liar on there too, can't forget that."

"Then tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that the other night meant something to you. Tell me that you haven't been avoiding talking about it since then. Tell me that when we were talking this morning you weren't just putting distance between us rather than talking to me when it got difficult and - I don't just fucking see weakness in you," he said, the frustration and annoyance at that coming out even though he hadn't meant to refer back to their earlier conversaion.

She didn't answer right away, taking another pull on the bottle. And she really hated that she was looking at his reflection in the glass, instead of just out at the lights. "Why should I tell you you're wrong?" she asked. "You are, but...it's pretty obvious you've already made up your mind about everything. And you think the worst of me the second you get a chance. So...what?" she asked. "What do you want to hear? And since you already think I'm a liar, why would you even believe me now?" She took another drink. "And yes, I've been avoiding talking." she told him. "Because I don't know what to say. And I'm really aware of the fact that things are right on the fucking edge and I don't want to push them over. But you can't really tell me that you've been sitting around just waiting for me to talk because you know what? you could have brought shit up too. If you really weren't avoiding as well, then you could have told me you wanted to talk. But you just went back to bed. So...what exactly is up there? Why is it all on me?" she asked. "As for only seeing weakness in me, yes, you do." she said. And her tone dropped at that last point. "And all it's really proven to me is that I thought I was safe to--" and she broke off there, not able to finish her statement. Instead she took another drink, and considered leaving again. He could have the business. He could have everything. She'd even leave him the gun he'd given her. Well, maybe he couldn't keep the bottle. That she planned on taking with her.

"You changed the subject. And you always think the worst of me too. And I had a fucking hangover and I wasn't in a place where I could cope with fighting with you over a damn subject. And then this morning there were those fucking flowers and that damn necklace..." He eyes drifted to her throat and he frowned a little - she wasn't wearing it. She'd taken it that morning. Maybe she'd taken it off when she got back. "And then you were gone. And no, I don't only see weakness in you. Fuck it, Princess - we're in this fucking business because I didn't see weakness in you! Because I saw a fucking strength in you that I thought you could deal with this. And it was you that told me you couldn't and you who wanted out of this and you who said you couldn't deal with pretending to be something you're not all the time. And you who's been giving me shit for fucking weeks for not agreeing with you on that. but, no - apparently the first time I say anything that suggests that maybe I'm trying to see things from your point of view, I get shot down for 'only seeing weakness in you'. You asked me if I wanted to try - I'm trying, Princess. You're just making this really fucking hard and it's making wonder if I'm just not seeing everything wrong," he said, his anger dying away until, by the end, he was just flat out attempting an explanation.

"I changed the subject to something about our future!" Eris shot back at him, looking back over her shoulder at him. "And if you'll recall, I was trying pretty fucking hard to come up with something that you'd be happy with, too, something that you might want to do! So it isn't like I changed the subject to the fucking weather. It was to us. And us in the future." She'd seen him looking at her throat, like he expected the necklace to be there. "I got rid of it. I left it at the fucking water front because I want nothing to do with it. Nothing to do with him and nothing that could even be gotten from it. It's gone." she told him. "And yes, I was gone, because I went for a walk. Because I needed to think, and I didn't like how I was feeling and it really seemed like things were only getting worse, and I didn't want to keep making them worse. So I went for a walk. Just a walk. From which I came back." she said, since she could definitely put together he was considering that her leaving again. "And yes, I don't want to pretend all the time. That I can't do. That requires things from my mind I can't give, and I don't want to fuck things up. But this? This is personal this isn't business. That man broke me, and I did stand there and make nice and maybe I didn't do so well later but when it counted, I did fine." On that last word, her voice wavered, and her eyes welled just a little. She gave herself a second, to dial that all back, though it was hard for her. It also didn't work one hundred percent. "But all you see is what I showed because I thought I could. Because I thought you'd be there for me, and that it'd be okay to show the truth there, that I wasn't okay, and everything that went with it. Because I felt safe, here, with you. But you used that against me pretty much the first second you got to, so nevermind. I was wrong. And I just...don't think I know anything anymore. Not a single fucking thing." She turned back towards the window and killed a lot of whiskey in a few long pulls.

She was back to looking at his reflection. "And now you're here, and you don't trust me and you're accusing me of bedding down with someone who just made me feel nice for a little while. Just a little bit. It was nice." She was back to wavering again, and bit hard at her lower lip to shut that shit down. Her voice still sounded a little rougher than usual, though. "He just liked my singing, and said people missed me. Something about soul, I don't know. And I know, okay? I know. It was just a line. I get it. I can see the angles from the other side too. But I just wanted to hang onto it for a little while. That's all. Doesn't mean I even looked at him to see if he was handsome or not. Because it didn't have anything to do with him."

Brett listened to all of that and it just all made him want to... Do something. Break something, lash out somehow - have some kind of release for the frustration and confusion and everything else, because god it was all such a fucking mess. What he didn't do was any of that though. And he didn't answer her. There was too much in there to answer, without leaving so much shit out. He turned on his heel and walked into the kitchen, where he leaned against the sink for a moment or two, head dropped, breathing deeply. He took a moment to push it all back down and then he lifted his head, pushed back up, took two glasses out of the cupboard and headed back out again, setting them down on the table and crossing to take the bottle from her.

Eris had thought he was walking away and had started heading for the door, intent on following through with that idea she'd had earlier. The one where she took the bottle and left absolutely everything else behind. That was the plan. Disappear. And she was just about to implement it when he came back, and took the bottle from her. And there were two glasses. She stayed where she was, having headed towards the door but not got very far with it. She watched him instead. She was also aware she'd just kind of poured her heart out there and he'd not said shit about it, so she didn't have the slightest idea what the fuck to do with that. So she was rooted to the spot, that final option in the back of her mind still an imminent possibility.

Brett still didn't say anything as he poured them each a measure. He set the bottle down, picked up both glasses and handed one across to her. "Have a drink, let's sit down. And talk," he said, his tone controlled, having decided, for once in his life, to try and be reasonable. It happened, occasionally. Usualy when he came up against people he couldn't afford to piss off. And, apparently, she now fell into that category. Or she did right now. Though it was a case of not wanting to, rather than not being able to afford to.

She stared at the offered drink for a few long moments before she finally took it. And she did go to sit down, but she sat on the floor on the opposite side of the table from him, feeling that need to be separate even if it was just by a coffee table. She didn't much give a damn about the level difference. She curled her legs beneath herself, rested her arms on the coffee table, and killed a good quarter of her drink in one go, eyes on him. She clearly waited for him to start, because so far as she was concerned, she'd just done one hell of a lot of talking. It was his goddamn turn.

He sat down on the couch, cradling his drink in hand, looking at her. "I don't know where I stand," he told her, after a long pause. "This morning, it felt like you were doing a whole lot of pushing me away. Even before I brought up anything about... What I thought you could or couldn't handle. It was like you left even before you walked out the door." He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. "And yeah, you came back. But I spent most of the day figuring you weren't going to. I kinda - I went out just after you did, because I couldn't face sitting around waiting for you to come home. Because maybe you wouldn't. And then - I came back and you'd met someone else. I don't think you're a slut. And I never think of you as a whore. I just... You don't seem to be here. Makes a guy - makes me - think that any moment you're gonna slip away. To someone smoother." He downed half of the glass he held and carried on, determinedly. "I didn't mean to make you feel weak. I definitely don't see you that way. I never have. I don't like weak women. You - you're not weak. But - I don't want to risk you. Body or mind. The idea of him getting anywhere near you? I hate it. Whether or not you can put on the act for the time it takes? I hate the idea of what it could do to you. And I hate the idea that he'd get that - even if he never knew about it." he downed most of the rest of the drink. "I hate it," he repeated, quieter.

She listened, putting in that effort, even if she still didn't know if it addressed even half of what she said. But there was some of it in there. So she listened. And she didn't say anything as she organized her thoughts on the matter first, thinking that was the wisest of moves. "I said I would try not to keep doing that to you. But that doesn't mean I never need a little space, a little time to myself. Usually, when I have left? I haven't told you I was just going out and then didn't come back. I've either left you a note that said exactly what I was doing or I've just gone. But I wouldn't tell you one thing then do something else." she said, thinking that was important. She paused, taking another drink before she went on. "Listening to you talk right now, it sounds a lot different than you coming at me with sarcastic commentary, or abrasive attitude." she sighed and looked away, propping her cheek on her hand. "Or just telling me the bits that cut the most, and half the time I don't know if you do it just because you're trying to hurt me, or because you really just can't seem to remember that I'm not the enemy. I'll take a lot of shit from you, you know. I have taken a lot of shit from you. And a lot of it rolls off my back because I can ignore it. But things are meant to have changed and therefore it's more difficult to just let everything slide. I'm not the enemy, I'm not whoever your last ex was, I'm not going to just drop you for the next guy I come across, and I don't really know how to deal with the fact that you just...keep treating me like I am." She took another sip and glanced back. "Like when you came in? When you walked away? What you said was mean. You said that and it was deliberately cutting. What does that accomplish with you?"

"When I came in you presented me with the fact you'd met some guy and it was really important for you to know that he wasn't just another guy. The way it sounded, what you said - it sounded like you were asking me - asking that I tell you that... I don't know. Now? I don't know - it sounded different then," he said, admitting that he could have been wrong in that. He reached to pour himself another drink. "I get sometimes needing a little space, but - with you it's not 'sometimes needing a little space'. I don't know if you realise you do it? But every time there's something hard, even a little bit difficult, you back away. At first maybe it's just the other side of the room. Or the next room. Or maybe it's the office. And then you get further, and further. Until you leave in some description or another. You're always running away, Princess. And it's exhausting, and it leaves me not knowing. Even when you say you're coming back, I'm just waiting for you to take that next step away. I'm not the enemy either. You don't have to run away from me."

"I wasn't presenting anything, there wasn't any play there. You asked what I had there, and I told you. There wasn't an ulterior motive behind it, I wasn't trying to say anything without saying it. All it seemed like to me was I told you what happened, and you slapped me down for being stupid enough to think anyone might want to give me the time of day for my singing. Like I never was good enough, so hey, why would I ever buy a line that someone had noticed me for it." she told him. She killed the rest of her drink and mirrored him, pouring herself another as well. "I'm not going to change overnight." she told him. "And I back off. I don't really want to get hurt, and you tend to do that, you know." she added. "And like I said the other night, up until the big turnaround, you've spent a whole lot of energy making sure I didn't think you liked anything about me. Hell you still didn't even say you liked me til you were too drunk to think better of it. So you don't know where you stand--you've pretty much made a career out of making sure I've got no fucking clue. Then you come in and say mean shit to me, because of some imaginary tone or other challenge you think I've put out there...I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that. And because I don't know, I back off. And lately I've backed off because I don't want to make it worse, and half the time I don't feel like I can do anything right. Like I have to be trying to read context that isn't there in my own words, because you're automatically going to take something in the wrong way. Even if we started out from the very begining being honest, it's like you randomly decided to suspect me of lying and I don't know why you've done that." Her tone by the end there was upset. Very clearly upset and like it was a damn important point to her.

Brett frowned slightly as she talked, because a lot of what she was saying strangely mirrored his own issues. The results and reactions were different, but the issues sounded damn familiar. "When you don't want to get hurt, you back off. When I don't want to get hurt, I get defensive. And when I get defensive, I - I hit out first, before someone can hurt me. And I'm trying to work on it, but I can't change overnight either," he said. This, here, was him trying to work on it. Talking to her rather than keeping on with the same old same old. "You walk away, and it brings that out in me. Waiting for you, or going after you, having that time when I don't know what's going on. And - I want this to be honest. I want things to be real, but..." He looked down, his jaw tightening. "...Things like that don't happen to me," he said, forcing that admission out, because god but it sounded pathetic out loud.

"So I back off, you lash out, and that makes me back off more, and so it's a cycle." Eris said, putting that together. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing but at least it was feasible. She understood it. She could start feeling her cheeks getting warmer, as she sipped more at her drink, even if she wanted to kill it and pour another. "If you want me to stick around in a fight, then you need to not keep lashing out at me." she told him. "That's what gets me walking away a lot. So if you don't want there to be time where you don't know what's going on because I need to take time--then there needs to be a change with things, because with how things currently stand, I will need it. Because I'm not going to stand around and just listen to you be as cruel as you can to me because you're feeling defensive and want to get me first. This isn't a competition, and I don't really know when I have lashed out first. I'm not saying I haven't, I just...don't really recall any that come to mind right now." She dragged her fingers through her hair, sighing. "Well this is honest and real and it's happened to you. I get not thinking it would ever happen to you, because I never figured this would happen to me either, but here it is. Don't sabotage it just because you're waiting for it to crash, that'll just make it crash. Self fulfilling prophecy. I still don't know how to deal with your thinking I'm being untruthful when I'm not. When I haven't been. I don't know how to deal with that at all."

Brett wasn't intending right now to play the fault game. He wasn't going to put up examples of when she'd backed off first - it wouldn't help anything at all. And that's what he wanted right now, that was what he was trying for: things that would help. The rest he was trying to put by the wayside. Like his frustration and anger building up before, he hadn't acted on that, he'd tried this instead. And, so far - so good. Hopefully. "I don't want to think that," he told her. "I see it a lot like you. For different reasons, and with different results, but I do. Neither of us thought this would happen. Both of us are waiting to be hurt. Maybe expecting to be hurt. Neither of us think we can do anything right, and everything seems to make everything worse. For me, when I think things like that, it's because they're - it's the last thing I want to be true. And I'm afraid it is. I know that's not fair to you. It's - I want to hear you say that it's not true. Like you want me to come find you when you go. You know that's not fair to me either, but sometimes you do it, because you have to." he shook his head a little, not knowing if that would make any sense to her.

She was trying to make sense of things. She really was. She was watching him, listening to him speak, and she was really putting effort into keeping her head about things. Trying to get it to line up right. "As far as I know, I have told you." she said. "I've told you more than once. If either of us has been more open about feelings in this relationship it's been me. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one on the line, I'm the only one who's really put myself out there in that vulnerable position. And you're too busy protecting yourself, or not bothering to tell me little details like you like me." she said, though her tone lacked any accusation. "Which in the grand scheme of things...why wouldn't you tell me that? What do you gain from keeping from me even the idea that you like me? I know I've told you. I've told you that I want you, that I want only you, that you're different, and special, and a first for me." she did kill her drink this time but she didn't refill it right away, looking at him. "a lot of times it feels like you want the benefits of having a girlfriend without having to actually be a significant other yourself. Like you want me to be that girl, you want me to behave like her, and have the emotional investment in you like her, and everything, but you don't want to give that back in return. And I don't know what to do with that, because it really sucks. And winds up making me feel like I'm being used."

"...I was afraid of giving that back in return," he admitted to her after a pause. "You know how I said that I wanted it - simple. Nothing." He smiled slightly, depreciatingly, almost mockingly, but towards himself. "No relationships. I thought that that would make things easier. That there'd be less chance of me getting hurt. And all it actually did was make things harder. Because I could tell both of us that I didn't want any more - but that's not how I've felt for a long while now. But I'd backed myself into a corner with what I said. And clearly that left you feeling like you were a girlfriend without me being your guy. And it left me feeling like I was being your guy without actually having a girlfriend. Not officially anyway."

Eris kept her eyes on him for a long moment, getting everything he was saying save for one bit. So she needed to ask, and she did so after finally pouring herself a new drink and taking a sip from it. "...how were you feeling like you were being my guy without having a girlfriend?" she asked. "I...really really fail to see how that's possible. So I'm missing something."

"Nothing was fixed between us," Brett told her. "I felt... I wanted the best for you. I wanted to make things better for you. I know I wasn't all taking you for dinner or buying you..." He quickly changed tack. "I changed my world to be with you. Because I wanted to be with you. I made my decisions with you in mind. There was nothing official between us, but... I'm yours. I've been yours for a while now," he admitted to her.

She blinked a little when he put it that way, because that was probably the last thing she figured would ever come out of his mouth. Ever. Ever-ever. So it took her a few long moments to just let that sink in. That she'd heard it and it wasn't some crazy hallucination or anything of the kind. With it came that sort of realization that there were huge parts of things she very much missed. And that bothered her a lot. So that blinking became a frown, tinged with confusion. "I..." she started, not sure how to say what she needed to. "I never knew any of that. And I don't know if it was because I missed it, or because you hid it that well." she told him. "...which is it?" she asked. "Do I not know you?" Which was a concept that threw her pretty badly.

"I've told you at least some of this," Brett reminded her. "You were the reason I made the decisions I did about my history, about the commissioner. You were the reason we have this business. In one way or another you're the reason I've done just about everything over the last few months - though, I'll admit, a lot of that I can only see by looking back over it. But no, I haven't been hiding it - at the most, I haven't felt able to bring it to attention. I wouldn't have known how to do that. Especially before - for a long time I never thought you'd look at me that way. You know that much."

"This sounds a lot longer term." Eris said. "Like you said, restrospect, we're talking months?" she asked, still getting the gist of all of this. "And you even had opportunities, like when I went to see you at Gray's." she said. "When that first 'I want you but let's not make a thing of this' happened." she said. She also remembered feeling hurt that night but couldn't quite remember why. But she remembered there were boundaries set there. By him. And that was after they'd been intimate at the very least. She sighed and looked away, then back. "I think you think you're more clear in your motivations than you are. Or, you don't get just how damn good you are at protecting yourself." she said. "Yes, you've told me some of this, but Brett..." she drew a breath and let it out slowly. "If we're talking months, like I said before, you actively tried to ensure I didn't get the bright idea that you gave a damn whatsoever. You did a remarkably good job. I'm still working against that. Like just me, trying to remember that supposedly you do. It's hard sometimes." Or a lot of the time but she wasn't saying that right now. "I really do have to try and remind myself and a lot of times with how things are with us--I just can't do it. I don't see it."

"Retrospect for me as well as you," Brett told her, though he didn't push that. "You make it sound like I set out to fool you. I didn't - I... If I actively kept things from you it was because I actively kept them from me as well. I know that doesn't make it any easier for you - but I wasn't trying to lie to you. It took me a long time to realise what all of this added up to. And then to accept that. Sure, I've been attracted to you for a long time, but most of that time, I didn't think you'd ever look at me. And being attracted to someone isn't the same as having real feelings for them - that came later."

She took that in, accepting that, though it didn't change the outcome, which was the issue. And she did get the thing about attraction versus feelings. And she knew it had taken her a while to figure that out herself as well. Just probably not as long as he did. Or, she acted on things more readily than he did, she couldn't tell which and again figured that it was sort of not really the point. In the end she did smiled faintly at him. "I always thought you were attractive." she told him. "Feelings came later. If I had to start thinking things through, I'd say I started acting in your best interests when I moved to the Round. Which I know you didn't like. But still."

"You know it's not easy for me to accept that," He paused and cocked a smile. "Either of those. Guess I should have clued in then, right? Kinda took that sort of personally." As in, really fucking personally. It still hurt to think about it, even if he'd accepted her reasoning, albeit reluctantly.

"I know." She said. Because she did. That light little smile was still there on her lips. "But I have always thought you were attractive, for previously mentioned reasons, and I knew when those men showed up at the apartment that I didn't want to see anything happen to you because of me." she said. "And the feeling was strong enough that I acted on it. And I left while you were out because I knew if I waited until you got back, I'd back down. I'd not want to leave."

Brett blinked at that. "Really?" he asked, clearly surprised by that. he hadn't appreciated that she might not have left if she'd had to do it with him there. That was definitely news to him.

She looked at him. "Have I not told you that before?" she asked. Though it was rhetorically. She rolled her eyes at herself, and nodded. "Yeah. I knew if I waited for you to get back I'd just talk myself out of it. I'd come up with a reason to stay, or something. I'd definitely have a much harder time leaving than if I just packed up and left before you got there. I didn't leave because I didn't like being there. I left because you couldn't afford to have me there at the time, not with your boys randomly dropping in where they could discover me at any point. But even still...I did know if you got home, I'd likely readily find reasons to stay."

"Not so much - generally you kinda stuck to the point that you'd told me where you were going and that you couldn't stay," Brett said, answering her, even if it was rhetorical. "If I'd gotten home I wouldn't have made that any easier on you - the guys I could deal with, but you leaving. I didn't take that so well."

"I noticed." Eris said. She finished her drink, then stood--which was ever so slightly unsteady while she did it. She took the step around the coffee table, then she leaned over him, looking down at him. "I just wanted to keep you safe." she told him. "But I knew if you got back, I'd never find the motivation to leave."

Brett looked up at her. "Why's that then?" he asked her, after a moment, his tone reflecting the fact that he'd asked the question more to hear her answer than because of any real bafflement as to her motives. He knew he could guess, he could probably work that out, but, really, given that they seemed to be so much at cross purposes recently, to have spent so much time misunderstanding everything about each other, he'd prefer to hear her say it.

She leaned further over, steadying herself by putting one hand on his shoulder to keep her upright. "Because I liked you, and being around you, and if you got home I'd just want to stay where I was comfortable and doing well. I mean yes, I was stir crazy a lot, but staying with you wasn't hard on me. Plus, I didn't know if I'd see you again after that. And I didn't really like the idea of not seeing you. I looked for you all the time." When she'd been on stage she had.

Brett twitched a smile. "And yet when I was there, you didn't see me," he pointed out to her. Then again, the two times he'd heard her sing, both were at points that he didn't know if she'd be happy to see him there. Both had been at points when she'd walked out on him. And both had been followed up by confrontations.

"Considering the shit you gave me for my location choice, I'm imagining you kept yourself well hidden." she said. She also pushed his shoulder back to see if he'd let her, wanting him to sit back further on the couch so she could sit down too. Though she planned to take up residence in the same spot as him. "Because I looked pretty hard. Every night." And he wasn't ever there. Or, he was, but she hadn't been able to see him.

Brett let her push him backwards, relaxing back against the couch, his legs comfortably apart, looking pretty slouched, all in all. "Considering my two career choices, advertising myself in the Round wouldn't have been good for my health. Though last time I was there, met a guy who didn't seem to want to punch my face in, so at least I know I don't have anything obvious tattooed to my forehead," he told her, still looking up at her. "I was there twice. Your last night, and new year." He was fairly sure he'd told her before about new year, but put it in for the same reason he'd asked for her reasons earlier on - so they didn't miss anything here.

Eris climbed onto his lap, sitting there comfortably as she faced him, resting her arms around his neck and up near the back of the couch, she looked into his eyes. "Making friends and influencing people?" she asked, light smile on her lips again. "And I know, you mentioned. I wondered that night, if you'd heard me. I wanted to know what you thought so much but wouldn't ask. Partly because I didn't want you to think I wasn't any good." she admitted.

"Someone would have to be tone deaf and stupid to think you weren't any good, Princess," he told her, honestly, settling into the position a little more, shifting to get comfortable with her sitting like that. He felt a little more relaxed with it, as if, with her this close, things were no longer in danger of crashing and burning. He figured that was to do with how he saw her reactions to things. If things were going badly, she'd back off straight away, so her coming closer, that felt like a good sign.

She smiled at that. "Well, thank you." she said. "Your opinion mattered." Which she'd cursed herself for at the time, but still. It had. "And you wouldn't give it to me." she added. which was true. He'd not said anything about his opinion on things til much later. "And I kept telling myself I was an idiot for giving so much of a damn what you thought, but it still mattered." Still mattered now, even. Which she wondered if she should tell him or not. "Your opinion matters." There. Present tense.

"Same here," he told her. "Your opinion matters. What you think, matters. And yeah, I thought I was an idiot for that as well. Because I never thought my opinion mattered to you. I'd hear you singing, sometimes, but if you realised I was anywhere nearby, you'd stop. So I figured I wasn't meant to be hearing you. That's why I didn't tell you I'd been and heard you sing." The eventual reason, anyway. At first it was just down to straight forward anger. When he'd broken into her place on new year to confront her, he hadn't wanted to say nice things about her, he'd wanted to be mad at her.

"You never said anything so I didn't know what you thought and so it was at least mildly nerve wracking to know you were listening but hadn't said anything and so I didn't know if you wanted to hear at all." she explained. It was sort of belatedly that she realized that she'd just owned up to feeling nervous at all about his opinion. It was one thing to tell someone their opinion mattered, another to actually say it mattered so much that it fully impatcted one's state of mind. But it was out there now. So she decided to continue with that. "There have been times when I rather felt nervous about your opinion. Usually you didn't notice."

"You cover well," he told her, simply. "And I was concerned that if I said something, then either I'd find out that you hadn't wanted me hearing, and I'd get an earful about evesdropping. Or that you'd confirm for me that my opinion didn't matter." Which would have been worse. He could have taken her shouting at him. Especially back then. What he'd really been concerned about was being dismissed. Brett as a person did not deal well with rejection.

"If I didn't cover well you'd know I was disappointed you hadn't noticed." Eris said. "Couldn't have that." Since she was in the same place as he was. If she found out he just didn't give a damn, if it got confirmed, then she'd be quite upset over it. As it was she'd been upset but that last little step would have been all the more awful. "But there were times. Like when I went to see you when you were at Gray's. I dressed up for you. Wore perfume, tried to look my best, but you didn't notice."

"I noticed - you look good in red," he said, casting his eye over the black she was wearing today, then back up to her face again. "It was possible that I was feeling a little too aware of the fact I'd sent you flowers. And I wasn't quite sure of what you'd think of that. Or if you'd say anything about it." In fact, he'd waited coming up with all sorts of cutting quips and comments that she could have made until they'd filled his head and wound him up until he had been ready to snap without her even setting a foot inside the building.

"You mentioned. It's why I wore red the first night we went out." Eris told him, smiling a touch. "I wore that for you." Specifically for him. It wasn't really for the party or anything else, just for him. "And you did notice? You didn't seem to. And the flowers, I liked them, but I never thought you were the flowers type, so I just took them at face value. That you were just doing the most convenient thing to get me a message."

They had been the most convenient thing to get the message through in actual fact. And he wasn't a flowers guy. Or, he didn't consider himself to be a flowers guy any more. And so that had made it worse for him. He'd had to suffer through the florist going on about choices, and what things would mean. And what she would think and what had started out being a simple medium to get a message to her had ended up as, apparently, this hugely influential and important thing that had left him spinning his wheels over how it would be taken. And what she would take it to mean - especially considering that he'd sent them at a time when he was being positive that the word 'relationship' would never enter his vocabulary. "I'm not the flowers type - and they had been just a message," he admitted, not wanting to bullshit her on that, or twist things to make them seem more than they had been. "But I didn't know if you'd take it that way. And the florist made flowers seem like this hugely important thing. And then when you got there, you didn't even mention them at first and that bothered me. And then when you did, it was to tell me I had the wrong flowers. Or, I know that's how I took it at the time," he explained.

She smirked faintly. "I didn't mention them because I didn't figure you'd want me to, considering they were just a message. I didn't think you were really sending me flowers. Not in the way other people would. So, I didn't think they needed mentioning, because I didn't suddenly become a teenage girl when I got them, and fret over what it meant." she told him. "And the comment about what were and weren't the right flowers was more just so if you did it again, you'd know even more what would blend in. It wasn't meant to be a diss. And of course a florist is going to tell you that. They want to make more money."

"Yeah, I know that now," Brett said, leaning his head back against the couch and resting his hands lightly at the base of her thighs where she sat on him, touching her, but not actually holding her at all. It was a comfortable, relaxed position, one which he was good with. "But then - I was dealing with a whole host of things I was becoming aware of that I didn't actually know how to deal with. Like the fact that I'd gone to buy you flowers for one reason, and then found that the idea that maybe they hadn't had the impact that I never thought I'd intended them to have bugged the hell out of me."

Eris arched a brow at that. "Is that why you got twitchy?" she asked. That actually made her laugh just a little. "So...you didn't want me to have a girly reaction, and then when I didn't you were unhappy about that too." she said. "I really can't win with you, can I?" she asked, though she didn't actually sound upset about it. It made sense in some weird way, not that it was fair or anything, but she could get it. Especially considering the source.

"I think I've gotten a little better - I'm trying at least. But yeah, I... You brought out things in me that I put away a long time ago. And you did it without even trying. Took me a while to get used to that." And he still wasn't, entirely. Clearly - that much was really blindingly obvious, given the way that things started tonight.

She nodded, watching his eyes. "I understand." she said. "For me it's all just new because while I've played all the right roles, I never felt any of them. They were all pretend. So...dealing with that and not wanting anything to be a play...it's hard sometimes. And I don't always deal with my emotions all that well."

"You've really never felt like this before?" he asked her, tilting his head to look at her a little more intently. She'd said that before, he knew, but it was still a hard thing to grasp. Then again, considering her previous profession, playing at feelings would have been high up there. "For me, I have. But I made a very definite decision that I wasn't going to ever do this again." So finding himself in a position that apparently he was doing this anyway, it had all snuck up on him, and then been incredibly hard for him to deal with.

She shook her head. "Never." she confirmed. "I...things just didn't work like that with me. I never really felt much of anything. Anger, but even that never reached what I do now. But I never had much in the way of even real affection for anyone. I never felt actual desire, I never gave a damn what anyone thought, I just needed them to feel however I wanted them to to get whatever results I was after. I've never been invested with anyone personally. I've never had to deal with anything like this in the slightest."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is the change me, or you?" he asked, again not wanting to assume anything. After all, she'd been through a hell of a lot lately, and he wasn't arrogant enough to assume that it was something about him that was such a special snowflake to open up parts of her that were hitherunto unknown.

"I think part of it is the brain damage." Eris admitted. "I think I woke up with all of my emotional wires crossed, and maybe some of them that hadn't worked before did now." She paused, watching his eyes. "The other part of it was you. I like you. I like that you're difficult, I like that we never took shit from one another. There was a lot to be drawn in by, and I was. Possibly not in a healthy manner, but I wouldn't claim I've ever been emotionally healthy, so whatever." she continued. "I think if I was stuck with anyone else things would have gone very differently."

He gave her a doubtful look at that. "You like that I'm difficult?" he asked her, wondering at that. Since, yeah definitely: not healthy. Of course, he liked that she fought back, that she wasn't some kind of wall flower, that she would give as good as she got, but yet she didn't seek to domineer him.

"Yes, I like that you're difficult." she told him, reaching up to trace along the faint healing edges of the bruise at his temple. "You think I'd like any man who was spineless?" she asked. "Absolutely not. But you aren't. You're not some submissive man. I've known a lot of them and they're painfully boring. But you're anything but."

"I don't know, I could imagine you in spike heels and leather," he told her, actually flirtatiously, just for a moment. "No - I couldn't imagine you being able to have anything... meaningful... with someone who wouldn't stand up to you," he said, tacitly admitting that he regarded what they had together as meaningful. "You wouldn't have any respect for them."

"Exactly." she said. "I think I probably would require someone exactly like you to spark anything. Which means you're unique. And I'm not looking for anything else." she said, smirking. "And I look quite nice in spike heels and leather." she told him. Then she leaned to brush a kiss over the healing cut on his cheek. "Even when I was talking to that man today, not once did I even think about him in that context. It didn't even cross my mind. Not even a little."

He didn't want to ask the question, but he couldn't hold it back as it left his mouth anyhow. "Not even a little?" he asked, cringing at how needy that sounded to his ears.

"Not even a little. It never once occurred." Eris confirmed for him. "Seriously, at no point was I even thinking about him as a male, or anything, it was purely a conversation about music." She gave him another little kiss, then pulled back to make eye contact again. "I don't think about it. I don't see anyone else and consider. It's just you."

He nodded, once, at that, meeting her eyes. It would take some getting used to, he knew, but he'd try and remember that. And believe her about it. He did, right here and now. It would just be a case of not allowing his insecurities and doubts to cloud that knowledge as time went on. "Okay," he said, after a moment or two, feeling that that needed to be backed up with words.

It did need that verbal confirmation, and she was glad he gave it over just the nod. A nod didn't have that same weight to it. "Should I ask about you and other women?" she asked, smirking faintly. "All those pretty girls at the party, and I'm sure you've gotten eyed on the street." she added. Since he was in fact, a very handsome man.

He didn't break eye contact, and in actual fact he didn't miss a beat before replying. "All what girls at the party?" he asked her, deadpan. He could almost mean it as well. He'd been so on edge at that thing so much concentrating on maintaining their image, and looking out for trouble, that he hadn't been given to eyeing the candy. Of course, in his opinion, nobody could have held a candle to her in any event.

That got a smile out of her, a wicked sort of one. "Good answer." she told him. And it was. It was a fabulous answer, even. That one she could hold onto no problem. She also put her hands to the back of his head to pull him closer, so she could kiss him. A proper kiss, for a good answer. She knew they weren't done talking yet or anything, but there could be a minor detour, right?

He lifted his hands to her thighs then, pulling her forward a little against him more as he returned the kiss, closing his eyes and leaning into it, feeling on a much more even keel than he had been. He drew it out, going with it until it felt like a natural time to pull back. "You're aware I get jealous," he reminded her. She'd seen that before, after all. She'd provoked it on purpose at one point, just to see his reaction.

For her part, Eris was feeling better too. She understood there were still issues, and they were likely going to have a daily battle for stability, but she wanted to do that. She wanted to keep with him, to keep trying. And right now things felt better than they had before. She also noticed that he didn't cut the kiss off too soon which she appreciated, albeit silently. "I'm aware." she said, smiling at that. "I just like it better when you're jealous in a 'get the fuck away from my woman' manner and less a 'who are you fucking behind my back' one." she pointed out. Since they were different things in her book.

"So, next time, don't go wandering off without me," he told her, the pads of his fingers pressing into the flesh of her hips, pulling her towards him for a moment. He leaned in and kissed her again. "I'm sorry," he added, this time giving her the real apology. "I'll try not to have that reaction again. You're a beautiful woman, Princess. You're way outta my league. Sets a guy to thinking that one day you'll maybe find someone who isn't," he said, explaining where he stood on that one.

She returned the kiss, shifting closer when he pulled her in, and when the kiss ended, she sat back, but not overly far. Not as far back as she'd been initially. She watched his eyes as he spoke, taking that in. She was quiet for a few moments, before she spoke again. "I keep waiting for you to recognize that you could probably have anyone you wanted. That you catch people's eye, and there are most certainly women who aren't me who would jump at the chance to go home with you. I figured all the society parties and such would raise your confidence level. Eventually you'd find someone less...complicated than me."

"If I didn't have you, I'm like as not go back to not having anything at all," he said, relaxing back against the couch again, giving her that little bit of space, though he kept a loose hold of her. "And anyway, yes, you're complicated, but I like complicated - like you like difficult. Could you imagine me with a simple woman?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

She thought about that, watching him. "You like complicated?" she asked, much like he'd wanted her to explain liking his brand of difficult. "And I don't know. I could picture it. But then the you in that picture is a different version. Still. Am I wrong there? You don't like simple sorts of women?"

He thought about it a moment before answering, and like everything else tonight, he made himself be honest, properly honest, not just 'not lying but maybe spinning things a little' honest. That seemed to be working so far and it wasn't crashing and burning the way he always worried it would if he put himself out there. "I don't like weak women," he told her, though he doubted that would actually be news. "I can't stand women who won't stand on their own two feet, who won't... Stand up to the world and what it throws at them. I've never liked that spineless 'protect me' type. Their attraction wears off after about half an hour in their company for me, no matter how cute they may be. It just gets annoying. You, you're not like that - I meant it when I said I considered you a strong person, that I found that attractive. But, at the same time - I like looking after you."

Even if her immediate response was 'well that makes no sense' she understood it in a way. She knew there could be a duality to things, she experienced it herself. With him, even. She listened to what he was saying about what he liked in a woman, though, and what he didn't like. Her own tastes ran the same direction, as she'd said. Spineless types just weren't for her. They bored her beyond belief. It was also good to hear him say he considered her strong. It was comforting in a way. It eased something in the back of her mind. "You like looking after me?" she asked, that needing more exploration.

His expression took on a slightly lighter bent for a moment and his eyes sparkled as he spoke. "It soothes my inner caveman," he told her, joking a little at that. "Yeah, I like looking after you. I... I don't know. It's different with you. Women I've known in the past. If they needed looking after, then that was usually an all round thing. They were pathetic," he said, his lip curling a little on the word, pathetic, giving it emphasis, contempt. "You're not like that. The things you need, they're separate from who you are. You - I would like you anyway, I would be attracted to you anyway. But I do like looking after you. And I like helping you to look after yourself. It works both ways. Either you need me for things, or I get to see you showing that strength - showing that you're more. It's hard to really explain - I guess, at the end of the day, it's just you. I'm fairly sure you're unique."

Eris looked a bit surprised at all of that, though she followed it well enough. Still, she wouldn't have imagined a lot of it. But it was all good to know, and all things she needed to incorporate to her idea of how things worked between them, or even just the way she viewed him in general. "Your inner caveman is a little closer to the surface than I think you realize." she told him, tone teasing, and there was a little amused smile on her lips. "Someone likes to mark me as his." she explained. Though it was clear that she didn't in the slightest bit mind that. In fact she rather enjoyed it, possibly because of that primal sort of connotation. "As for my uniqueness, with what you just explained, I might be. I don't know that I could think of another situation where you'd get that kind of variety."

Brett ran a hand up her torso, pushing her hair and clothing aside a little under he could run his fingers over the bruise he'd last put on her. He never used to be like that, he knew. Never used to have the urges he was now discovering that he had. But then again, he used to be a very different man, life had changed him, he was far from the idealistic kid that he'd been before. And now, apparently, he liked to mark her. And fight with her. And be rough with her. And she, didn't seem to mind at all. "You are mine," he said, knowing that he was saying it not only to confirm it to her, but also to hear himself say the words. A confirmation for both of them.

She kept watching him as he looked at the bruise, wanting to see how he viewed it, the expression on his features as he saw it, touched it. "I am." she agreed with him, thinking that she never thought in her life she'd ever say something like that, but it was true. She understood that. She was still here. She'd come back today. She was where she wanted to be. And it wasn't the location. It wasn't the apartment, or the building, it was just wherever he happened to be. That was the required factor. "And I like having the reminder."

Hearing her say that eased a knot inside him and he exhaled slowly, quietly, almost imperceptibly relaxing more. "You do?" he asked her, his fingers still resting against the bruise, but only lightly. He had no wish to actually hurt her. Another point of dualism - he liked to mark her. He liked to be rough with her and he liked it when she fought back. But, outside of the bedroom, he would never touch her, never use violence against her.

She nodded, not letting her eyes drift from his. "Yes." she said. "I feel it when I move when it's fresh, and I like that. It gets me thinking of the specific event, and you, and everything else, and I like thinking about it. And with the twinges, it brings back feelings, like a little moment where I can feel what I felt then with it. It's a little difficult to explain." she admitted. Then she smirked at him. "Of course the other part of it is that I just like bringing that out in you. I like that primal sort of side, I like that you actually dare to do it in the first place."

He raised his chin a little. "And why wouldn't I dare?" he asked, a challenging glint in his eyes, though there was some mild confusion there as well. He didn't understand totally why there was an issue of dare. Sure, with some relationships, this wouldn't be something that would be done. But with them, specifically, it fitted. And they both enjoyed it. Clearly.

She laughed a little, looking at him. "Because I am Eris fucking Stockard, baby, and no one put a mark on me like that before." she said. Even those who paid for rougher types of things--that wasn't allowed. Nothing that was going to show up later where she couldn't cover it, nothing like a claim. That just wasn't the hell allowed. But things as was blatantly established by now, were different when it came to him.

He didn't say anything for a moment or two, just sitting back and looking at her. Considering her. He'd known who she was from the moment he'd pulled her, mostly dead, from behind the dumpster that night all those months ago. He'd never been under any illusion about who she was, or what position she'd held in society. He hadn't saved her because of that. He'd saved her because it was the right thing to do. Because he'd made a spur of the moment choice. Because, at that moment, on that night, not saving her would have been the unthinkable option. But it wasn't because she was Eris Stockard. And nothing that had followed between them was because she was Eris Stockard. He'd always known who she was, but that knowledge hadn't influenced anything. He rarely used her name, rarely, if ever, even thought of her as 'Eris'. She was 'Princess', or 'Julia'. She was just who she was. So, when those moments came, when who she actually was were brought to the fore, it could hit him with the reality of the situation, seen from an outside point of view. And he had no idea how he ended up in this situation, one that probably any other man in the city - and most of the women - would have said was impossible. After all, there was a reason they'd killed her. Or tried to. There was simply no other way of getting to her. After a moment or two, he smiled a little. "Guess I never got that memo," he told her, unapologetically.

She watched him as he considered things, and she had to wonder what was going on in that head of his. "You must not have." she said, titling her head to the side slightly. "What were you thinking about?" she asked. "Something went on in your head."

Brett shook his head. "Sometimes I - forget would be the wrong word. Sometimes I remember who you are," he told her.

"Meaning most of the time you don't think about me like that." she said, able to pull that out of his statement. "Who do you see me as?" she asked. Because sometimes she wasn't quite sure. He did most of the time just call her Princess. His 'nice' name for her, even if they'd dropped calling each other sugary nicknames sarcastically a while ago. Sure, sometimes they came up during an argument but for the most part they stopped. Princess had stayed, though. Like she called him baby.

"I see you as you," he told her, as thought this should be self evident. "Not as a position in the city. Do you see me as an ex-cop? Or one of the O'Malley's boys? Did you see me like that?" he asked her, inquisitively. He'd never actually given that much thought to how she saw him, but it occurred that he didn't really know. Much as he'd never really talked about how he saw her.

"As me--but how is that?" she asked. "...and do I have a name in your mind?" she asked, because she was aware it was possible she didn't, and she was curious. There wasn't a right or wrong answer. Then she turned her mind to his question. "I had a very different experience of you than either of those things." she said. "Like I can tell you the girls talked about you, and I knew who you were, and everything, but that was all surface. And when I did 'meet' you so to speak, it was during the most vulnerable time in my entire life. So...no. You weren't the ex-cop, you weren't an O'Malley boy. You were Brett Trent. You saved my life. I remembered your eyes."

"My eyes?" Brett asked her, intrigued by that, but he didn't wait before turning to her questions. "You've been Julia for a while now," he told her, deciding to miss out on the fact that, for a long time, she was 'the bitch' or a variation thereof. He'd spent a whole lot of time angry at her, but that was nothing personal. Not being angry at her now meant she was something different from the rest of the world. "And I see you in that - I'd seen you before, you know. You're not that kind of an ignorable person, even if you were always in the background. Course, I knew who you were from a long time ago, but, the last few years, I'd clocked you when we came round to Babylon. There was always this gulf of a difference between you and your girls. You didn't have to say anything, or really do anything for people to know that. There as just something about you." Something that attracted the attention, caught it, pulled it to her - and then quite clearly said that you? Couldn't have her. At least, that was the impression Brett had always got, back in the day. Which was fine by him, because, back then, he hadn't wanted her or anybody else. "But, that was then. And I didn't save your life because of who you were. And then, after that, things changed fast. Those early days - I don't know how much you remember about them," he said, running a hand up to touch her hair. She'd mentioned before that some things were fuzzy. "I was there more than I'd ever intended. Gray didn't deal so well with you, but you seemed to respond better to me. And with all of that, I got to know you, I got to see you. And probably at your most... vulnerable," he told her, hesitating over the word, because he knew he hated to feel that way, but it was the truth. "So, what you'd been, it didn't matter. It wasn't helpful, it wasn't relevant. So, I see you, or what I guess is you, unless you want to inform me differently. I don't see that unobtainable woman in the background, letting everyone know they weren't good enough. She's still there, but not for me - just for everyone else."

She listened quietly to his entire statement. She could definitely see his point of view, and part of her was a little happy with his description of how he'd viewed her before the night of the attempt on her life. But that was brief, and not the point therefore she didn't dwell on it at all. Nodding, she accepted what he said, and she was glad that she was Julia for him too. It had been something she'd given specifically to him, trusted to him, and it meant something to her. Quite a lot, really. But he'd asked a question. "Most things are fuzzy around that time." she said, referencing what he'd said. "But the first clear memory I have, the first thing that comes out of the fog that I've never forgotten, that stood out sharply is your eyes. At the time I coudn't even put together who you were. That came later. But your eyes were there. These bright blues that weren't psychotically trying to choke the life out of me, and weren't the brown predatory ones like Gray's. Yours were different. It...as a memory, as something else, sort of anchored me." she said, frowning as she tried to talk her way through her thoughts, trying to put them into sensible order when she'd not tried to articulate it before. "I suppose I knew they belonged to whoever helped me? Not to someone trying to hurt me? so even if I wasn't thinking 'hey I remember him' or anything of the kind, it was just a bright point that wasn't fucked up with anything else." She paused, watching those eyes she was discussing. "And then you came back, and it was you. The eyes. And I...felt better. I spent so much time in pain, and terrified, and just...you were a bright spot. I remembered your eyes."

Brett's face darkened at her mention of Gray's eyes, at the word 'predatory'. A momentary cloud which passed over his expression. He hadn't meant it to be like that. He'd taken her to Gray's to be cared for. He'd paid the guy everything he had to do that. He'd thought that it was bad enough that he'd get calls in the middle of the night about how 'she was acting up again' and was 'fucking uncontrollable' and how unless Brett came round to deal with 'the bitch' then Gray was going to dump her on a street corner and have done. Those had been the very early days, when Brett had honestly wanted to wash his hands of it all, palm her off, not risk his neck any more than he already had done. The deed was done, he'd saved her life, he'd been trying to save his own by walking away. Gray hadn't let him do that. What Brett hadn't discovered until well after Gray's disappearance had been that that hadn't been the only way in which the snake of a quack had reneged on their agreement. Brett had paid him cash to keep her - she hadn't been part of the deal. He'd thought he'd made that really damn fucking clear to the guy. But Gray had decided that what Brett didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Maybe not, but he knew now: and it would damn well fucking hurt Gray if the guy ever showed his face again, that was for sure.

Eris saw it, that darkness, like she had a few other times when Gray had come up and what had gone on there. "He's gone." she said. Not that he really needed reassurance, it wasn't like Gray had done anything to him. Or could, really, she was pretty sure Brett would be able to break Gray into kindling if he ever tried to pick a fight. But she didn't want him to dwell on the parts of what she'd said that had to do with Gray, because it hadn't been the point. "And I wasn't talking about him, I was talking about you." she told him so she could get him back on track. Or try to.

Brett got what she was trying to do, and was grateful to her for it. He didn't want to dwell on that bastard, or what he did. He knew there was a deepseated anger there about it, but that was nothing new. "You were," he agreed, pulling himself back to that.

"So you were pretty much the only positive thing that came out of any of those times, fuzzy brained or not. And in the end, you came and brought me to your place, and I felt better." It had taken her a while to be better in general, to feel safe, but she had. So much so that as she'd said earlier it had resulted in her not wanting to leave at all.

Brett raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly. "You felt better in my shitty little apartment?" he asked her, though it wasn't said in any way that suggested that he actually doubted what she was saying. He just found it slightly amusing. But he also knew how she felt. For him, things had started to change in those days when she'd come to live with him. Looking back, he knew he'd already started to give a damn about her and what happened to her even before then, but when she was at his place. That's when he'd first started to care, first started to have real feelings for her - even if, at the time, he'd been unable to recognise them as such.

She laughed lightly. "Yes." she said. "I felt better in your shitty little apartment." she confirmed. Then she paused, looking thoughtful. "Actually when I first got there, I really think that it helped that it was a shitty little apartment. That house was too big for me to deal with alone, there were too many rooms, too many ways in, I couldn't feel safe." she explained. "But that place...it was small, if anyone was getting in it was through the door, and I knew it every time someone so much as walked down the hall. It was easier for me to deal with because I could feel like I had everything covered, like it was safer." She bit her lower lip then smirked. "And then there was knowing you were right there. You were really close. And if I needed you, you would be there. Even if you were cranky about it, you were still there."

"I got used to having you there," he told her. "I guess, for me, that's when things started to change. When you really became a part of my life. And then, you left." Just after Christmas, though he hadn't thought about it in those terms so much. It wasn't like they'd celebrated or anything. But it had been a day or two after the holiday that he'd come home to find three notes on the kitchen table.

"I gave you a kiss goodbye." she told him. Which she hadn't ever mentioned before. But she had. She'd left a kiss on his mirror. Which could have been played off as a few different things but they weren't those other things. It was what it was. "I didn't know if you'd find me or not. If you'd bother looking. And then I had to adamantly deny that I wanted you to look for me. I do know I would have tried to find you again or tried to get word to you eventually. I don't really know how I would have done that, but I was planning on it."

He'd noticed the kiss - he'd almost put his fist through the mirror when he saw the lipstick marks there. They'd felt like she was taunting him. "I dropped everything to find you," he told her. Three days it took him. He'd called in favours he had been keeping back, talked to people he probably shouldn't, risked having to explain his 'absence' to his superiors. But he hadn't just been able to let things go, let her go.

"Yeah?" she asked, a touch surprised about that. It was pretty clear he was upset when he'd finally found her, and it had been in fairly short order, but she wouldn't have thought he'd dropped everything to do it. Though she supposed, in retrospect, maybe she should have figured that out a while ago. "Did you get into trouble?" she asked. "And what did you want to do when you found me? You were waiting for me. Scared me to death." Which she knew he'd probably been going for.

"No, I didn't get into trouble - things were slow for the holidays, but I had to call in some favours I could have done with keeping. Talk to some people I'd rather not. As for what I was going for - I wanted you to know you couldn't just walk out of my life like that. That I would always find you. That I had found you. I waited for you because going up to you in public wasn't an option."

"You know, every time you left, I thought it was going to be the last time I saw you." Eris told him, that connecting in while she was thinking of everything in general. And that made her wonder if that was part of the reason she kept leaving him. She'd expected that for so long--that every time he was gone that was it. That he was just gone forever. He'd never quite seemed like he was coming back, and for a while she knew he did his best to avoid her. Which she thought might warrant asking about. "You made it seem like you didn't want to see me. Maybe you didn't. Did you? I think for a while there the only times I saw you were when you accidentally got caught breaking in again."

They'd talked about that particular fact before, but Brett knew that some things didn't quite stick with her, so he didn't highlight that. And anyway, it was possible that, this time around, his answer might be slightly different, slightly more honest - or, at least, less likely to leave certain facts out. "I didn't think you wanted me around," he told her. "You'd left, you hadn't told me where you were going, you slipped out when I wasn't there. I figured you wanted me out of your life. And yes, possibly, I was avoiding as well. After all, there was no real 'reason' for me to keep finding excuses to come round. Except the obvious one, of course," he explained, leaning up to brush a kiss over her lips. "That I wanted to see you."

She was aware it probably shouldn't surprise her that he kissed her like that. That light brush. But it still did a touch. She wasn't quite used to it, tenderness from him. She didn't mention it, though, she just kissed him back, listening to what he had to say. "I definitely wanted to see you." she told him, tone light. Almost soft. "So much of my attention was focused on you." she added, accepting that about herself. "You were on my mind more often than not."

"Well, it's not like you were getting out all that much," Brett reminded her. He paused before admitting something that he hadn't really said so far. "After you left, I didn't think you really needed me anymore." He hadn't liked that, or so he'd discovered. He'd wanted to be needed. That had come as a real surprise to him.

"I did need you." she said. "You realize I can't handle my medication. And I just..." she paused, trying to think of how to word it. "I didn't see anything? For myself, anything. I never quite thought about any of that when I was with you. But leaving, that really brought out all my limitations. It made it all stand out sharply to me." she explained, wondering if that made sense. "Then you wrote me the notes. And I thought again, that it was you separating yourself, cutting off any reason you might have to come back." She hesitated, then decided to go forward with what crossed her mind. "I kept the notes. Mostly because you wrote them, and one of them started out with 'princess'."

"It was," he confirmed to her. "Or an attempt. You might have noticed - I'm not particularly good at letting go." That should have told him as well. that she was more than he'd intended her to be. Because he'd walked away from so many women in his life, easily and without conscience. Chewed them up and spat them out just so they couldn't do it to him first. But, with her, he'd not been able to let go. He never could, when someone was important to him. Even he, who was so damn good at purposefully hurting people to push them away, pulled punches when he really cared.

"I did notice that." she told him, smiling faintly. She kissed him then, much like the one he'd given her. Light, just a brush, something she let herself draw out slightly but not as long as she might want to. "I was what could be kindly put as preoccupied with you, and unkindly as something else." Possibly 'obsessive'. "And I really needed to pay you back. I couldn't let that go." Even when she'd thought he would be gone forever and she'd never see him again, she'd been working to get his name cleared. That was when she'd set everything in motion from the start, even. After she thought he was gone.

"I told you - I didn't expect anything. I didn't want anything," he reminded her. He wondered if he'd be able to explain that now. "I didn't want to turn it into some kind of deal. That's not why I did it."

"I know." Eris said, nodding a bit. Because she did, she understood it. Though his reasoning behind it was news. She gazed at him thoughtfully. "I didn't know the why. You didn't want things to be a deal? You didn't want it to be business?" she asked. "Because of my past? Or...?" she trailed off, so he could fill in the answer for her.

He hesitated before answering her, because he knew that the reason for that had very little to do with her, and he didn't know how she'd actually react to that. But they were being honest, and actually talking. All the same, he mentally prepared himself for possible backlash, out of sheer force of habit. "Saving you was the right thing to do," he told her. "And it had been so long since I'd done anything that could be considered under that heading. That felt good. Turning it into a deal would have taken that away. Would have made it just business. Made it about getting something out of it, rather than it being about the right thing to do."

Nodding, she got that. "Makes sense." she told him, not taking offense. Especially knowing his history. That and hell, she represented something to him. He represented things to her too. But she'd heavily suspected before that she had such connotations with him. "I think I knew that." she said, sitting back a little, but not because she wanted to be farther away, just because she was thinking things through and putting them together. "I think I said it, even, at some point. When we were arguing about things. How I thought I was just an ideal to you. I was just what I represented, I wasn't taken for me." she said, though she was hesitant on her wording, because it was clear her memory wasn't fully intact for it. But she recalled something had happened on the subject.

"And you were wrong," Brett said, jumping on that, ready for her to turn it round that way. "You weren't 'just' anything. There was that part of it, but that's not all there was, all there is," he told her, his expression tightening a little, noting the way she leaned back, waiting for things to get worse, because nothing seemed to last, and he didn't have any hope that this would be different. he'd like it to be, but his life didn't work like that.

"I know." Eris said, catching the fact that he seemed to be tensing up now, and she could guess why. "I'm not saying I think that anymore, or anything, I just think I could understand it then, I got it then, and because there wasn't anything to balance off the other side of it, because I didn't know about any emotional considerations, that was all I could see." she explained.

He looked at her, still holding himself poised for an argument, but not pushing for one at all. "Yeah?" he asked her, cautiously, wanting to make sure of that.

Nodding, she didn't let her eyes leave his. "I get it." she told him. "I'm not upset about it at all. There isn't anything to be angry over." she told him. Because he still looked like he was seeing something she wasn't. What that was, she wasn't sure. And she felt a little like she was missing something. "What are you expecting from me?" she asked.

He let out the tension as she specifically confirmed that she wasn't upset over things, taking a moment or two just to breath and stabilise himself. And then to consider her question. "I was expecting you still to be upset over things," he admitted to her. "Like you were last time. As if I could only have one motivation, or that my motivations couldn't change over time. That you'd take it that I still saw you as some kind of ideal, or reason, or something that wasn't to do with you."

"It's easier to let some things go when we talk more." Eris said, not really faulting him for that reaction, either. Maybe she was more mellow because of the alcohol content in her system, but she didn't think so. They were getting actual communication in, and that was new and different for them, really. "From what you've been saying to me, I would have to distrust everything out of your mouth to keep thinking that was the case."

"It'll take some getting used to," Brett admitted to her. The idea that maybe not everything was going to always crash and burn. Or that he didn't immediately have to leap to the defensive. The latter was going to be hard for him, he knew. Old habits and everything. It had taken determination, tonight, to stop and make himself calm down, sit down, talk to her. Be rational and reasonable.

"Like me getting used to the idea that you apparently like me?" Eris asked, smiling ever so faintly. "I know we're not going to fix everything overnight." she said, exhaling. "But I want to try. And I feel better right now than I have in a while." she admitted. "Everything's felt so...off." Like everything was ever so mildly abrasive, but that turned into a whole lot of bad if it was left.

"No apparently about it, Princess. I do like you. You're..." His mouth turned up into a smile. "You know, neither Shelley or Amber were really my type," he informed her, a touch of humour leaking into his tone.

She laughed a bit, leaning back closer again. "No?" she asked. "I'm what?" she asked. "Not the sweet little home-maker that Shelley was...or someone using you for your body?" she asked, flashing a little wicked grin at that. Shelley and Amber. The entirely made up imaginary girlfriends she'd left 'notes' from for him to use as an excuse if he ever needed to with his collegues. "So...your type...?"

"Is you," he confirmed simply. "Really - could you honestly imagine me with Suzy Homemaker? I'd make her cry every day of the week. And anyone wanting to use me for my body would run screaming. Hardly an attractive prospect there." The burns down one side of his body left Brett with a lack of self-image that not even she had really made a dent in, and he remained certain in the knowledge that, underneath it all, he wasn't an attractive man.

There was another laugh. "No, I couldn't see you with a Suzy homemaker. You would make her cry every day, and then it would be worse because you'd hate all the crying. You'd want her to fight back, not just take a bunch of shit from you and become a doormat." she assessed. "And I rather like what you do to me with your body." she told him. Yes, she knew about his body image issues. That just didn't mean she didn't find him attractive, and she knew other people did too. The scars, yes. Pretty much most people ever would have a not so positive reaction unless they were creepy as hell, and that wouldn't be the kind of attention he would want. Still, he had gorgeous eyes, a handsome face, and some tattoos she adored the hell out of. Beyond that, it wasn't about that for her. The scarring didn't matter to her. It was about him as a person.

"Yeah, but you're not just using me for my body," he commented, before raising an eyebrow. "Are you?" the tone in his voice stated clearly that he didn't expect her at all to respond in the positive to that. And, in fact, if she did it would very much be news to him, but he couldn't help but ask anyway, for amusement about the idea more than anything else.

"Yes." Eris told him, nodding her head though her expression clearly showed she was teasing him. "I put up with everything, I got into all of this because I'm hopelessly addicted to you and your ability to get me to scream." she said. "It's got nothing to do with you, and the fact that I can't really think of much worse than walking away from you."

His lips twitched at that, a silent laugh that lifted his usually dour-looking face for a moment into something almost boyish. "Well, you did say that nobody's ever got you to do that before. Could imagine it's kinda addictive," he teased back.

"Exactly. It is." Eris told him, liking the little bit of teasing going on. It reminded her a little bit of when they'd been on the kitchen floor, and they'd been playing a silent little game while fighting for control of the bottle. Or more, she wanted it, he was keeping it away from her. "So, that's it. Sorry, I know it's a crushing disappointment." she told him, tone consoling. She reached up to pat his cheek, even.

"So, that's what you go for in a guy, hmm? Difficulty and the ability to get you to make all sorts of interesting noises?" he asked, referring back to their earlier conversation even as he lightly jerked his head away from the pat. They might be flirting, but she didn't get to get away with patronising him.

She put her arms back around his neck loosely, amused with his moving away from the patting. "Yep. That's it." she told him. "Add into that infuriating, observant, intelligent and unwilling to put up with shit from me..." she trailed off. There was one more trait that really did matter to her, and it was one that she knew was a bit touchy. So she hesitated, but then went with hit. "You want to know one of the things I really do appreciate about you." she said, not actually asking it as a question even if it was phrased a bit like that. "Deep down in there somewhere you're a good person. which generally is something I really would have tried hard to destroy back in the day, but you've been through the wringer, and it's still in there somewhere. And I know you don't see it much, but I do."

He blinked a little at that. "You would have tried to destroy me?" he asked. Clearly, that was news to him. He hadn't worked vice for a number of years, and, professionally speaking, he hadn't had that many run ins with Ms Eris Stockard, if any at all. Their paths had really only begun to cross once he started frequenting Babylon with the O'Malley boys, and of course, by then, he wasn't a boy scout any more.

She nodded. "Probably." she said. "If you caught my attention. Though from the front you put up, there wouldn't have been reason to. I wouldn't have seen the good aspects of your personality. But if I'd known I would have tried. I just don't think I would have been able to manage it." she admitted. Even at her peak, considering everything Brett had gone through and he still had shreds of the inner hero in his person, it would have taken more than she'd have been able to play to really crash him down. She wasn't sure there was a way to do it. Not really.

He knew it was fucked up - and also heavily influenced by the current situation between them, but a flash of interest actually showed in his eyes. There was something almost compelling about the idea that he would have had her attention in that way. Even if, in reality, it wouldn't have been anything attractive, or pleasant, to look at it through the safety of what they now had, the idea of this woman going up against him like that had a very different connotation.

Eris wasn't quite sure what she was seeing there. Head tilting slightly to the side, she kept her gaze on him as she considered. "I wouldn't have liked the idea of someone being wholly incorruptible. So I'd have to try." she told him. She knew how she would have viewed it. She would have wanted to break him. Snap those last little strings he had to decency. Kill the hero, bring out the darkest tendencies he had. Of course, if she'd done that, or anything like it, she didn't think she'd ever have wound up with him now. Well. That and if she'd done that, he would have dumped her in the river when he had the chance without a second thought.

He pushed himself up and kissed her, hard, abandoning the earlier soft touches for something far more intense and passionate as he pulled her to him. He drew the kiss out, but made sure that he was the one who pulled away first, slightly before its natural end. "Like to see you try - you know, I wouldn't have given you the time of day," he told her, not letting her go at all, keeping her pressed against him.

Eris really hadn't expected that. Though it didn't take her long to go with it, either. She very much did, kissing him back with as much as he put into it, and when he broke it off just that touch too early, she stayed in close, not that he was seeming inclined to let her back off either way. She could be happy with that. "Sure about that?" she asked. "Even if I took a special interest?" she continued. "When I set my sights, I don't go half way." she told him. Which was one hundred percent true. Especially then. When little things like morality never mattered even a slight bit.

He didn't ask her how she would have gone about it - for all that the idea of her being that focused on him was exciting, he did know that the reality would have been anything but. He believed that she would have done things, or tried to do things that he could never approve of, or find in any way entertaining. Hell, he'd had someone - someones - make him fall. He'd been set up to betray everything he'd once stood for, and he'd gone with that. He'd abandoned his morals and beliefs and all to stay alive. He was no saint, far from it. So, no - he didn't want to know exactly what she would have done. He didn't want to know the reality, he'd just stick with that little electric illusion. "You said it yourself - you wouldn't have been able to manage it," he reminded her. That was part of it, he knew. Part of why he could let the idea settle to be attractive. Because, before she'd even started, she'd said she would fail. Which turned it into a fight, a contest, a battle between them. And Brett loved it when she fought against him, that push and pull between them.

"No, I wouldn't have." she said, nodding. "You're a little too incorruptible. And I doubt most of what I would have thrown at you would have made a dent. You would have seen through it, for starters. Which isn't to say I would have given up, but in the end..." she trailed off there. In the end Brett was Brett. He was still the man who kept the medal he'd gotten for pulling people out of a burning building. He was still the man who'd decided not to throw her one breath away from death body into the river because it wasn't the right thing to do. He was the man who looked after her, who got upset about being accused of cheating on imaginary girlfriends for fucks sake. There was something about Brett that just wasn't sulliable. And she never would have understood it. "Would have driven me crazy." she told him.

"Do I not drive you crazy anyway?" he asked her, letting her other comments go for the same reason he wasn't asking for details. That would bring in the reality of the situation, and that wasn't needed or wanted just now. That was for a different conversation altogether. And, in any event, Brett had accepted one truth about himself - who he had been hadn't died the way he'd once thought. The man was still there, he was just buried very, very deep. Somehow, she'd got to him though, and sometimes that man saw the light of day when she was around.

"Yes, you drive me crazy anyway." Eris told him, smiling as she said it. "Like I know I drive you crazy." They did it to each other, kind of by default. They just had personalities that sparked off of one another, sometimes in good ways, sometimes in bad. But either way, they didn't have a dull relationship. There was always something. Always. They just had to learn to get more of that good sparking to stick and cut back on the bad.

"You do," Brett confirmed, running his hands down the length of her arms. "And, you know, I wouldn't mind that, if we could just get past that part where it keeps feeling like everything's falling apart," he admitted to her, turning the subject onto something more serious and real.

"I was just thinking that." Eris admitted. "I don't mind it either. I...there's something about you. And you bring out things in me. And I'm not sure how you do it, but you do. And half the time it's good, and half the time it's really not, and...I want this." she said, coming out with that blatantly again, even if she'd said it the other night. "I want you. I want to be here, with you. Or wherever you are. I don't really care about the location." She really didn't, she would even take the shitty apartment back so long as things worked.

"Maybe it's because all those other guys treated you the way you expected to be treated," Brett mused. More than once in the past she'd covered the 'nobody else would dare do that' subject. "They all cared what your reaction would be. And me - well, when I met you, I don't give a damn. If anything, generally, with most people, if I was looking for a reaction, it was a negative one."

Thinking over that perspective, she leaned back a little, though she again didn't go all that far. She just was looking at him as she did so. "I don't know. Most guys treated me...it was different. Though they all wanted to possess me. At least in some fashion. Only they recognized that they couldn't, not really. So they paid for the illusion. A play. Some bit of pretend where they could say that they were special or...whatever it was they told themselves later. Just none of them would have had the balls to push past any of my boundaries. And I know I've said it before, but I never really wanted any of them. With you, it's desire."

Brett's lips twitched in a smile, though he didn't actually say what came to mind for that. "For me, it's truth. I mean, yeah, desire, but... That's not a first for me. But truth, that's important to me. Which, I know, with everything - but... I want that. It's just not always easy to get to. And it's fucking terrifying at times, facing things. But that's what I want, and that's - we can have that."

"You do know I'll tell you exactly what I think." Eris said. Since she'd started that from the very begining and yes. She could, in fact, offer him truth. And their truth might be a little volatile at times, but she also appreciated it. "Is that what you appreciate most in me? That I'm not going to pull a punch, or dumb things down for you under some damaged notion that it's for your own good, or I need to sacrifice my own values to keep you happy?"

Brett looked at her. "Well, I can go with flat out desire if you'd prefer. But I doubt that'd be the first time you've heard that one before either." Whereas to him, coming from her, her telling him that she desired him was a big deal. "But, no - yes, it's that you're not going to pull any punches with me. You'll stand toe to toe with me. No matter what. That's my desire."

She watched him, a light amused expression on her lips. "Have I really been the only person who just didn't take your shit and didn't storm off in a huff due to it either?" she asked. "No one else managed?" For her, half the time when he got pissy, that just made her want to be pissy in return. To not let things go that way without her handing back what got dished out.

"Does that surprise you?" Brett asked her. He could be nasty at times, after all. "And - Princess. You've never received the full whammy. Ever. I could have been a whole lot worse. With you, there's always been places I wouldn't go." Like her past profession, or her memory issues. With her there had always been no go areas, the points that he knew would drive her off well and truly for good.

"Yes, it surprises me." she said, leaning closer again, resting her arms across his chest, and she tilted her head towards his neck, not quite touching him, but letting her breath ghost across his skin. "Why didn't I get the full hit?" she asked, curious about that. What with them having just been discussing the fact that she never pulled a punch with him.

"Because I didn't actually want to get rid of you," Brett told her. "Most of my reactions to people, most of that shit that I throw - it's to get people to fuck off and leave me alone. And I'm pretty good at alienating people. But I didn't want to alienate you. It's one thing to argue with you, but I wouldn't hurt you like that."

"When did you start pulling punches?" she asked, still ghosting along his skin, moving to the other side of his neck. "When did you start not wanting to alienate me?" She wondered how early that was, since they'd already discussed the fact that they both had developed things sooner than they'd really caught on to that fact. But it was definitely something she wanted to know. It seemed pertinent, after all.

"When did we have our first argument?" he asked her. That was a little while in - the first few days, began to come back to herself, it had been more like nursemaiding, and he thought that that was probably where it had started. Whilst he'd never been exactly gentle and caring with her, they'd started off in a place where he could be slightly softer without being called on it, or even having to acknowledge it.

She had to think about that. "Are we going to count me arguing with you about your decision to bring me back to your place?" she asked, smirking faintly. "Back in the days where you ordered me around, and I liked to inform you that I wasn't a puppy." Which for a while there she'd had to do quite often, with his tendency to bark orders. She just didn't happen to take it just because he put it out there.

"You were never a puppy. I never saw you as a puppy. Just, sometimes, it was easier and quicker to just tell you want to do. And anyway - if I started talking to you, I might have to admit that I liked you, held you in some kind of esteem, gave a damn about you. And we couldn't have that now, could we?" he asked her, rhetorically.

"You liked me then?" she asked. "A woman who more or less just caused you trouble all the time, who you had to come over and soothe and talk out of the bathtub on a regular basis?" she asked, knowing she'd been a huge pain for a while there. The world 'unreasonable' didn't even begin to cover it. She brushed her lips over his skin then, a soft little kiss against his throat. "And you realize that it might have seemed quicker and easier to tell me what to do but it took longer because I never wanted to do that." she told him. "I always fought you on it."

"You did - but any other way and I ran the risk of finding out that we actually got on. And, Princess - I've been attracted to you for a very, very long time. I don't think there's a man alive who wouldn't be." Of course, that didn't satisfactorily explain why he didn't try and alienate her. Generally speaking, over the last decade, women he was genuinely attracted towards had been the ones he'd tried hardest to chase off. But not with her. She'd sparked up a completely different reaction in him. "And, possibly, you hit up my protective instincts as well," he said, admitting to that angle of things, the one that filled in that hole.

"Once you started saving me, you couldn't quite stop?" she suggested. She could understand that as well. Plus, it fit in with that whole the inner hero wasn't dead theory. He'd seen her just about dead, so yes, she could imagine he felt something like protective. Or, now she did. At the time, not so much. But retrospect said something different. "And yes, but I didn't catch your eye. You just noticed because you're supposed to notice. everyone was. Was I especially eye catching?" Then she thought a little more. "Or was it the power attached to it?"

Brett raised an eyebrow. "The power attached to it?" he asked, wanting clarification on that. He could imagine a couple of possibilities for what she meant with that and he did wonder which one she meant.

"Well, you knew who I was. You knew I wasn't falling in line with your bosses who you hated anyway." Eris said. "I did have my own place that I built up from scratch without much help. So, yes there was power attached to me and who I was, everything else." she explained. "So...was it just that you thought I was pretty? You already said I stood out from the other girls."

"No offence meant, Princess, but you could have had all the power in the world back then and I wouldn't have been drawn to you because of it," Brett told her, trying to moderate his tone, because he really didn't want her to be offended. He hadn't been attracted to her position as the whore queen of Babylon. That really wasn't who he was. "You drew attention, sure, because you didn't get involved. You held yourself apart. You were world above everyone else. But put it this way - back then? You wouldn't have won that bet either."

"Brett, I presented things as an either or. You were the one who went and put the connotation on things that there was something different about me. So I offered up the most obvious reason you'd think that. So, if it was just that I happened to be pretty, then you could have just said that." Eris said. She wasn't offended by the idea that it wasn't what she suggested, it was more she was mildly frustrated by the fact that he seemed to be calling her on things when she'd just been asking for clarification on something in the first place. "And technically, I only got to a position where I could tell everyone to piss off and not pick a side because I had power of my own. Anyone else who decides not to give crime families what they want gets squashed beneath their bootheels before they can blink. I was a little too big to do that with without drawing a lot of notice. Or, until they decided they could deal with getting noticed." Since eventually they had in fact, decided it was worth the risk to get rid of her. And had gotten rid of her.

"Fine - then I just thought you were pretty," Brett said, actually thinking it wasn't quite that simple, but hearing the frustration in her voice. He'd been meaning to just leave it at that, but he found himself adding, "And you had a strength, or you seemed to. I don't know if that's the same thing as power. Maybe it is. But it caught the attention."

She considered that, assessing for a moment. "I don't think it is the same thing." she decided. The frustration was dialed back again, soothed. "There are a lot of people who have power but no strength, really, and others who've got strength but no power."

Brett nodded, he could agree with that and it was how he'd meant it, though he hadn't been sure whether it was simply his way of looking at things. "When I found you - you didn't look like that. You looked small, it wasn't right, what they'd done to you. None of it was."

A flicker of a frown crossed her features at that, and she watched him. "Really?" she asked. "You thought of that?" she hadn't considered that it wouldn't seem right to him that she looked small, considering she'd been strangled and knocked out of her tower. She knew it had offended his sense of right and wrong to toss her in the river when she was still breathing, but that seemed slightly different. Like it wasn't quite connected to the same thing.

He returned the frown, not understanding why she looked a little confused at that. "Yes," he confirmed. "Princess - I might not have approved of what you did. But you never did anything to deserve what they did to you. You had principles. You stood by them. And they took you down for that. Like they did with me."

Quiet for a moment, she didn't answer straight away. Pursing her lips as she eyed him, she shook her head before she finally did speak. "What happened to you and what happened to me were different things." she said. "I did have my principals, yes. I didn't want anything to do with either mafia organization. But that doesn't mean I was any saint, even if you don't consider what I did amoral." She reached up to touch the scar on her neck lightly, running her fingernails along the subtle edge of it. "I always considered what happened to me fair. Even when I started actively doing things again, like looking for a way to clear your name, when I very first met up with Jakob, he thought I was there to find out what happened to me and I wasn't. It hadn't even occurred."

His face darkened. "What happened to you wasn't fair, Princess. Just because something's illegal doesn't give someone free reign to murder and rape their way through it. The families and the syndicate think they run this town, and that everyone else is either with them, or against them. There's no room for people to just live their own damn lives. They'd like everyone to believe that. 'Fair' for you, back in the day, would have been arrest, trial and prison - not Volkov. What happened to you was not fair."

Shaking her head, Eris didn't buy that. "You're talking about me like I was some innocent bystander." she said. "I wasn't. And just because I didn't side with either of the major players in town didn't mean I wasn't a player on my own. It didn't mean I didn't mess with people, and have my own stake in things. You know that I know at least a little bit about the people higher up in this city, there's a reason for that. You play the game in this city, and that's how it is. I played, I lost." She paused. "...or, I lost for a little while." she amended, since she'd gotten her revenge, so to speak. Not against the man who'd done everything to her, but against the organization that sent him. "There's a reason I don't want back into the game. I'm done. And the sorts of things I did back then, I wouldn't do anymore. But none of that means I was..." she paused, knowing he wouldn't like the word that had come to mind. In the end she couldn't find a different one, though. "...wronged."

"No, Princess, I'm talking like an ex-cop who believes in how things should work. And they don't work. I know they don't work - they've never worked, but that doesn't make the fact that they don't work in any way fair. And I'll work within the system we have now, you know that. But it still doesn't make it fair. Or make it that I'm happy with the way things have to be. No, you weren't some innocent bystander. And neither was I. You don't think they picked my name out of a hat to fuck with, do you? They tried to kill you because you wouldn't bow to their ideas of how things should go. And I got set up for the same damn reason. So yeah, our situations were very different - you were playing the game, I was working to try and upset the board completely. But we both went against their rules." And they both lost.

"Okay, fine." Eris said. "You were a decent person. I was not. One could in fact say what happened to me was karma. For you...no. I see what happened to you as very wrong. Insult to injury. You didn't deserve what happened to you. I probably got what was coming to me. Doesn't mean I wouldn't want to shove something sharp into Volkov's neck, but still. What happened to me came with the territory. I knew that. It was inevitable, probably."

"That might be your opinion. It's not mine. I don't see it as karma - I see it as the fact that there's something very wrong with this world, to have territory like that in the first place. It shouldn't be that way." But it was, he knew it was. He'd been naive once, he wouldn't be again. but that didn't mean he'd learned to like it. He still hated it, hated the reality of the world they lived in. He just knew now that there was nothing he could do to change that. All he could do was try and carve out a little corner and survive.

"Probably not." Eris said. "But here, especially, this place, that's the way it is." she said. Drawing in a breath, she let it out slowly. "But you still believe there should be better things. Or better people, or that I didn't just get what was coming to me." she said, shaking her head. "That's what I meant with the incorruptible thing. Sometimes I still wonder how it is you've managed to hold onto any ideals. Even notions that things should be better."

"Knowing how things are doesn't mean you can't believe they should be different," Brett told her. "I know how things are. I know they're never going to change. I'm not going to sit here and wish my life was different. I've learned that lesson. But that doesn't mean that I believe that any of that is right," he told her, trying to explain where he came from with that. "Fuck - I'd probably be a whole lot happier with things if I could just let that go. If I could just accept the world the way it is. But I can't - I look around me and I see the shit that goes on. This city is fucked. Rotten and corrupted at every turn. And it shouldn't be that way. It could be so much better. But it won't be."

"Is that what's stopping you from being happy?" she asked. "This place? All the bullshit that's here? The fact that it's never going to get better?" That seemed fairly important as far as insights went. She didn't know what to do about it, though. She'd suggested to him before that he get out. Leave the city. Just pick up his stuff and find someplace else to be. If it was out of sight out of mind for long enough maybe he could let go, move forward.

Brett breathed a short laugh. "Figure of speech, Princess," he said. In honesty, he had no idea what stopped him from being happy. What caused the fact that whenever he was in a position where he expected to feel happiness, he reached for it and the joy was just missing, leaving an empty pit behind. "But no, I don't think that's it. I think I'm just fucked up, somehow. Life takes its toll."

"I know it does, I just--" she started, but stopped. She what? Wished things were different? She did, but that didn't make it so. And as she sat there, she could recognize and acknowledge that it bothered her that he wasn't happy. That she couldn't bring that out in him. Which again brought her towards the idea that maybe he needed someone else. Or something else, but people were meant to be happy in relationships, weren't they? Even if she didn't believe in an absurdity like 'love', that didn't mean she couldn't buy the idea of being happy. Content, something. And he wasn't. Her gaze ticked down from his eyes, towards the collar of his shirt. "I wonder if you changed your situation if you might find something different. Life takes it's toll, but you still have your core belief systems. And they don't quite add up to the idea that things are hopeless for you."

He knew what she was talking about the moment she said that - bolstered by the fact she suddenly wasn't looking at him anymore. "I'm changing my situation, Princess," he told her, taking that tack, rather than the one he'd taken previously, of immediately jumping down her throat for the suggestion that he should leave her, leave all of this, go have some kind of life that primarily didn't involve her. That never went down well at all.

Silent for a few moments, she tried to organize her thoughts before she shared them. It was a bit of a touchy subject, after all, or, it was feeling like that right now. She also moved, putting distance between herself and him--though she didn't go far. She just sat on the cushion next to him as opposed to staying where she'd been. "You have but you're still not actually happy." she said. "I know you're not. And you can say it's just something wrong with you but that doesn't really make it better." she continued, tone light, though as neutral as possible, too. She didn't quite know how to tone it so she went for something that didn't have a slant one way or another. "And as much as you say you want me, or want to be with me, I haven't really helped your situation. And I haven't made you happy." she told him, looking back up towards his eyes. "Don't you think a situation like this should involve that?"

He didn't answer her straight away. He thought about how he'd felt for most of the day today, how he'd felt the other night. How he felt when he thought things were over, and he realised that that was how he used to feel all the time. "I feel different when I'm with you," he told her. "You don't know what it was like, what my life was like for the last few years. You've helped that. Before, I hated my life. I hated everything. Everyone. Life was just going through the motions and trying to make as many people feel as bad about the world as I did. There was no future there, there was nothing. I did what I had to do and that was it. It wasn't living.

"It's not like that anymore. I don't feel like that any more. Except for today. And the other night. When I thought I'd lost you." He looked across at her. "I don't know about happiness. I know I want to be happy. I know there are times when I should be, and they're all to do with you. But you do make my life better." He wondered if that would be enough for her, and wished he could offer her more.

Eris wasn't sure how she felt about that. How it measured in with everything else. She drew in a breath, and let it out slowly, giving herself a moment to think everything through that he'd said. She did note that it was nice to know that he'd finally startred feeling like there was more to life than just surviving, since she did know before he'd very much been under that impression. She suspected they'd even argued about that at one point. Possibly more than one point. And she could accept that maybe she had something of a better influence in his life, that she improved the quality of it, or something like that. What was harder to reconsile was the idea that there were even times where he recognized that he should be happy, and regardless of whether or not they had to do with her, they still lacked the actual state of being. Which had to make her question her role. If things were different, if she were someone else, if it wouldn't be elusive, if he'd be able to fall into that.

What went through her mind was maybe she was a stepping stone. Like she'd brought him this far, but that was the extent of what she could accomplish. And the other side of that was that she didn't want to be settled for. She didn't want to have him with her because he didn't figure he'd get anyone else. Or anyone better, and as that thought occurred she really wished it hadn't. Because really, with his specific issues about the scars on his body and all, he most certainly believed that she was it. All he could get. In the end she realized she hadn't said anything for a long time, but she didn't quite have words she was comfortable sharing, either. So she didn't. Instead she poured herself another drink, and took a sip.

He leaned forward and brushed her hair back over her shoulder, exposing the side of her face closest to him, though he didn't try and turn her back to him. "Say something," he requested, thinking that her silence meant that that wasn't enough for her. He wondered if this was it, if this was the point where everything started to crumble again, even though tonight he'd thought they'd gotten further than they'd ever managed before. he'd just begun to feel properly stable about things. And now, now it looked like it could all fall down again, because he couldn't do something and he didn't want to fake it.

Holding her glass against her knee, eyes down on it, she didn't stop him from moving her hair aside, but she didn't look at him immediately, either. "I don't really know what to say." she told him. She didn't sound angry, because she wasn't. Very much not. Upset, yes, but angry? No. She didn't blame him, and knew it wasn't as if he was doing this on purpose. She took another drink, and turned the edge of the glass around against her knee, watching the liquid swirl in the glass as she did so. Her mind was still ticking over everything, but she still didn't know about saying it out loud. There was a childish little part of her that didn't want to say it because then it would be out there in the world. Stupid.

Brett didn't know what to say either, his mind going over ways that maybe he could make things better and coming up with nothing. Nothing acceptable anyhow. But the silence felt uncomfortable, hanging, filled with an awareness that something was lacking, not right. "Things have been... improving. I'm hoping, maybe - really, who forgets how to feel happy anyway?" he asked, trying to laugh at the concept. But that was exactly how he felt. As though he'd forgotten how to be happy. As though, somewhere along the line, that emotion had been taken from him. And he knew it had nothing to do with her, that he did know. No, this was across the board. But who wanted to be with a man who couldn't be happy? Who you couldn't make happy?

Exhaling, Eris sat back, slumped in her seat, and she brought her feet up onto the seat with her. it was a bit of a defensive posture, and she was aware of that, that she was feeling like she needed to protect herself right now. And she also acknowledged that once upon a time, she would have altered it. She would have deliberately switched how she was seated, just to hide the fact that she felt vulnerable, but she didn't do that anymore. Either way, she took another drink, before holding the glass against her shoulder. "I don't think anyone forgets. I think you just haven't felt it." she said, finally ticking her gaze over, though she didn't properly look at him. "That's not a good thing." she told him, even if she was pretty sure he got there on his own. That conclusion wasn't really newsworthy. Her tone was light, soft. It lacked blame. She was pretty unhappy, but she still wasn't landing blame on him for it.

He sat back on the couch, but he didn't turn his body towards her, aware that she was closing herself off and feeling impotent right now to do anything about that. "I know it's not a good thing," he said, absently cleaning under the fingernails of one hand with his opposite thumbnail. "It's not you though. It's not like it's just that I can't feel happy with you. It's everything. Maybe I've been miserable for so long that, I don't know. I don't belong there, or something." that didn't sound quite right, the way he said it, but he did know that sometimes he felt that disconnect.

"You don't know that." Eris said. "You don't know that you couldn't be happy with someone else." she clarified. "And you were miserable for a long time, yes, but you don't absolutely hate everything about your life anymore. There's another step up from where you're at now, Brett." Sighing, she took another drink, killing the rest of it then she just held the empty glass between both hands, against her knees. It took her a while to get to saying more, even if she knew full well she hadn't finished her thoughts. It was back to the parts she didn't so much like, that was the trouble. "Maybe I just got you this far." she told him, thinking that wording sounded slightly better than 'place holder' or 'stepping stone'. "That doesn't mean that's all there is. There should be more." she continued. There was that last little thing, too, but again, she kept herself from saying it, not wanting to.

Brett nodded. "You're right," he agreed. "There should be more. I want there to be more - and I want there to be more with you. And I'm willing to give that time," he added. "Because I don't just want to give up on this on the basis of a 'maybe'. Because maybe you didn't just get me this far. Maybe you just got me this far so far. And maybe we've got further to go. Once we get past us both being sure the other one's going to walk away. Or neither of us wanting to admit that doing this... Makes us vulnerable." It took something for him to say that outloud, and he was aware that he'd had to turn it into a 'we' to be able to manage it, but it was out there now, and he'd thought it necessary to say.

Just because you want there to be something more there with me doesn't mean there will be. People live their whole lives pulling that shit. Wishing something was different between themselves and their significant other's. How many men walked through Babylon's doors, seeking something from my girls that their wives or girlfriends weren't giving them? And it wasn't even all anything to do with sex. She kept quiet, continually coming back to the same thing. And she did understand about the time thing, and she could get why he wanted to keep giving it time, and she couldn't say she wasn't willing to see, but there was still that last bit. "You don't believe you could find anyone else." she said, tone light. Quiet. "You've made that very clear since the time I met you. And, you've got me now. But...Brett I don't want to be settled for." she said, finally giving it voice. "I don't want to be the consolation prize because you don't think you'll do better, or this is it, so you're going to take what you think you can get."

Brett opened his mouth, then closed it again. He frowned a little. "Is that what you think?" he asked her. "That what you think this is? That I'm just settling for you, because I couldn't do any better? What - like suddenly I felt this burning need to be involved in a relationship, and you were the only option?" He tried not to snap, mostly managed to keep his voice level, but he had to ask the question.

She heard the tone, but didn't really pay attention to it. She didn't figure he'd be overjoyed with her statement in the first place. "I didn't say you couldn't do better I said you don't think you could do better." she said. "There's a difference." She sighed and leaned forward again to fill her glass again, though she didn't drink any right away. "And I know you're not happy. And I don't know if it's because of me or not. But I know I wouldn't want to feel like I was being settled for. I wouldn't want that for you, either. I'd rather you were happy. However that worked out." Which implied she'd be okay with it if she wasn't a part of his world when the H word happened. She would be much less okay with it than she let on, but she knew she'd do it, and not let him see any grief. She wouldn't give him any hell over it. She'd been willing to more or less toss her own life to ensure he got his name cleared, his best interests were pretty high up on her list.

"Fine - you think I think that I can't do any better, but the point still stands," Brett told her, brushing that off. "You know, Princess, looking at things, it's been a while since I was 'involved' with anyone at all. And I'm pretty sure that you're aware that I didn't exactly set out for that with you. Yes, I want it now. But that's something pretty new for me, and not something I intended. I'd hardly say that sits comfortably alongside any kind of idea that I'm 'settling' for anything. I am here, with you, because I want to be. I'm not 'settling' for you because it's easy, or I'm comfortable, or because I feel this drive to have a girlfriend. In fact, none of those apply. I'm here with you because I can't imagine not being with you. No - I can imagine not being with you. I don't want to. I want to be with you. There is no consolation prize."

She listened, eyes back on him when he started speaking. She took a drink from her glass as she considered. She still wasn't sure. She could take the point that if it was easier another way he might be going for that if that was what he wanted. She just wondered if he'd even allow himself to think of things being different. Like him with another woman, one who could push his buttons like she did but who he got along with better. Brett wasn't big on dreams, after all. He'd adamantly fought her every step of the way any time she even brought anything like that up. He always shot her down and hard when she tried to get him to even think in future directions, push his imagination into the realm of possibility. Brett dealt with what was right in front of him, and that was more or less it. Currently, she was right in front of him. That didn't mean she was the best option. And even if she believed that he believed what he was saying, that he was being genuine, she didn't know. This was officially going to suck. "Okay." she said, quietly, because she knew she needed to answer him.

He wasn't happy with that, he wasn't happy with a one word answer and he fully turned to her. "I don't want anyone else, Julia," he said, reaching for her hand, something he didn't normally do. "I want you. I want you because you get to me like no other woman I've ever known. And I'm including back before the fire as well. I know it's not perfect. I know it's anything but, but I don't want to just throw this away. And I don't want you just finding something else to be unsure about. I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but let's not just throw this away on a 'what if'." Not now they'd acknowledged that there would be something that they were throwing away.

She was a little surprise in her at the hand holding thing. He didn't do that. In fact she couldn't actually remember him doing that at any point. But it had it's impact--it made an impression. It didn't make things better, but it stood out. She watched his eyes, still feeling like there was such a huge weight on her chest. I want you to be happy. I don't make you happy. There's a problem here. He was right that she'd found something else to be insecure about. But it wasn't like she could just forget it. She couldn't sweep it under a rug and call it good. Of course that left her with the knowledge that she didn't know what to do. She didn't have any idea. She didn't want to drop things. She knew that much. But how did she deal with it? In the end she said what she felt, aware a little emotion leaked into her tone even if she didn't intend that. "How you feel matters to me."

He nodded a little, understanding that. How she felt mattered to him as well. It was important to him. It was good to hear that that was returned, even if he was hearing it under these circumstances. "My life is better with you in it," he told her. "I feel better with you in it. For me, right now, that's good. That's a real improvement. And I know it's not everything. And I know you want more for me. I get that. But... Princess, six months ago, I could never have imagined my life would go like this. Hell, a month ago I couldn't - and that was when I was tracking you down. And things since then - believe it or not, even with all the shit we put each other through, this is better, and it keeps getting better. And I know - you're going to turn round and give me that line about how you maybe can only take me half way or some bullshit like that, but right now, I don't buy that. The problems I have? The fact I'm never happy with anything? That's not you. And if I don't seem to be able to be happy with you? I can guarantee one thing - I'm fucking miserable without you."

Listening to all of that Eris tried to let it soothe her. And in some ways, it did. Just not fully. But then she thought it was going to take a whole lot to dislodge the unease that had settled in the back of her mind over the entire thing. It was going to be an issue with her. It was going to be something she wasn't going to be able to truly let go or forget about. That much was stunningly clear to her in those moments. But she was trying to listen. She still thought that he wasn't getting a few things. Like he said he couldn't have imagined his life would go the way it had but that only stated the obvious, since Brett made a habit of not imagining anything. He didn't let himself. But she'd said that earlier and he hadn't wanted to talk about that, or that was how she took it. He didn't really think that was important.

The last part she could understand too, and she knew that was his main point. The thing that stood out, the thing that he considered the most important. That even if he wasn't happy with her he'd be worse off without. She understood what he meant, she could get it all. She still didn't know if it made things better, or just that much worse. She was back to feeling like it was just the lesser evil again. She took another drink from her glass, then set it on the coffee table without finishing it. She had the urge to leave again, but this time didn't even minorly entertain it. Taking a walk or anything else wasn't going to help. There wasn't anywhere she could go that would take her mind off of things either way so she might as well be here. To her, it just felt like someone had walked over her grave. Or that some shadow had fallen over her. She really really hoped it was just the moment, and she'd move past it. That she'd be capable of moving past it. "You're asking for time?" she asked. "That's what you want?" she asked, because she wanted to be clear, she needed to know where things stood, what they were getting into.

What he wanted was her to let go of this thing she'd latched onto altogether. He wondered if it was always going to be like this - that they'd address one problem, just for her to come up with another. Could she just not be content with what they had for now? Brett had no illusions that things were ever going to be perfect, but he wasn't going looking for issues either. "Yes, Princess: I'm asking for time," he said, knowing that that really was something he was settling for.

Nodding, she accepted that, though she still was all kinds of off feeling. She just didn't know what to do to combat that. His tone wasn't helping, so far as she was concerned either even if she didn't know what would. But he sounded to her like he was trying to be patient, and there was a little bit of resignation in there somewhere. "Then you'll get time." I guess. She had the sense not to say the last bit aloud, however. She still felt unsettled, and she looked at him again. "What is it you want me to say or do?" she asked. "You sound..." she trailed off, not sure how to word it.

Brett tried to decide whether he actually wanted to answer that, and in the end decided that he had to, though it was somewhat reluctantly. That reluctance made him realise that he really did pull punches with her these days. Not just in regards to the really sore spots. Or maybe he'd just got better at identifying the really sore spots. He wasn't sure. "I want you to stop looking for reasons for this not to work, Princess. Maybe it will, maybe it won't - but if you keep on picking at it like a scab..." he said, trailing off, not finishing that sentence.

She could sympathize there, because she wished she'd stop that too. Or, more, she wished she'd stop finding things. "I know." she said, sighing heavily and she reached up to drag her fingers through her hair. "And I don't want to look for things, I just keep seeming to find them. I'm not doing it deliberately." she told him, hoping he did understand that, even if she could understand why it might not look like that from his end. "I don't want to find some reason not to be with you. I'm invested, I want to be with you, I really hate the idea of things not working, I just...don't know that I can pretend or go around the things I do see. As good as I am at playing roles and everything I don't want to do that with you. Which includes...well, pretty much the same issue we were just discussing. It's not like you're going to lie and say you're happy. I don't want that, you don't want that. I don't want to lie and say everything's fine if I see something. I don't want that and I wouldn't think that you would either."

"Don't want you to pretend - but sometimes you need to accept things," he told her. "Sometimes you just need to accept that, sure, maybe things shouldn't be like that, but they are. I don't know how to be happy, Princess - and I get that's an alien concept, and I get why you think that that situation needs to change. But, right now, I'm good with where I am. Fairly good, anyway. We have things to sort out. Like - you're not happy here, you don't want to be here. So we need to work on that, get things in motion, get out of here to somewhere that we both want to be. I'm not good with going on with something you don't want. And, until a couple of hours ago, I thought we were over for good anyhow. There are issues here, Princess. Issues that can get sorted, issues we can work out. Issues that, when we do, could mean that - maybe the rest of it'll come. And those issues are nothing to do with whether you're the right girl for me or not."

"It's not an alient concept." she said first, because that definitely needed addressing. "I remember that. Not feeling things like I do now. Because that used to be me. I wasn't really happy in my life. Then my brain got scrambled and everything went to hell. Or maybe I got fixed, just in the stupidest way, I don't know. I'm not up for a philsophical debate about whether I'm more or less fucked up now than I used to be. The point, though, is that it's not an alien concept. Which is why it bothers me so much." she explained. Then she paused and looked at him again. "...you said 'until a few hours ago I thought we were over for good anyhow'." she said. "I don't understand what you mean there, not the words, I get that, but what's the connection to what else you said?" she asked. "I think I missed a step."

"You expect me to be happy when everything's up in the air? When I know you're not happy? When I think you're going to be walking away - and, before that, when I was trying to work out where I stood, or what I wanted from this anyhow? There's always the chance that it's just that simple. That give me some stability and maybe it'll come back." He didn't know, he knew he didn't want that gaping hole. He wanted to be happy. For the first time in years, he actually wanted to be happy. Felt like being happy wouldn't be a total betrayal of everything. And he knew he'd felt as though he should be able to be happy with her. It was just waiting for that hole not to be there.

"Did you work it out?" she asked. "Where you stand and what you want from this?" She was looking at him again, anyways, keeping her eyes on his face. Not quite his eyes, but close. Reaching out, she picked up her glass again, but just to hold, she didn't drink from it. She wondered if she had things figured out on her end. If the question was tossed back her way, if she could even answer properly.

"We're having this conversation, aren't we?" Brett asked back. He thought that, given their conversations tonight, and the other night, he had made his position in relation to her perfectly plain.

"We are, but that doesn't quite answer." Eris said. "Like where you stand. Have you figured it out? Have I let you know where you stand with me? Do you know where you stand on your own?" she asked. "And wanting this and knowing what you want from it are different things." she added. She gave a humorless little half quirked smile that died immediately. "Even if I think you're going to bitch about being overly technical now."

She never stopped pushing. "Yeah, I'm going to bitch about you being overly technical. And ask you to take one step at a time. I've figured out where I stand. And I feel more like I know where I stand with you. What I want from it? That's more the 'where do we go from here' - that's the long term question." But then again, all their plans had been long term plans, hadn't they? They'd specifically set out to tie themselves together, even before they knew where they stood with one another. "I want a future with you, but I don't want to rush things. This is new - to both of us. And I'm good with just... feeling our way along for a while. Taking it a step at a time," he told her.

Nodding, she accepted that. "Alright." she confirmed for him verbally as well. She lifted her glass and swallowed down the last of what was in it, setting it down again. "Do you have any idea what it is you might like to do?" she asked, looking back to him from the empty glass. "You were just saying you wanted to find something that we both wanted. But last time we talked, there wasn't any 'want' on your end." she pointed out, though it wasn't pointed. She wasn't saying it to be rude.

"I know what I won't do, I know what I can't do. Other than that, I'm willing to try my hand at anything. What I 'want' is something we can both live with. We were talking about some kind of bar, or a club - I could do that," he told her. "If you can. And - maybe we could book the musician you met to perform," he slipped in, offering that up as an apology for his reactions earlier on.

Sitting back again, but possibly a little closer to him than she had been before, she thought that over. "He's good." she said. "I remember he's good. A piano player. He apparently plays everywhere else in the city, I'm sure he wouldn't turn down another gig." she told him. "Do you want to be the elusive club owner that has his own booth in the back where no one bothers him, or a more public figure?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow at that. "We're back on roles again, are we?" he asked her. "What would be better for business. I'm hardly Mr Sociable, am I?" he pointed out. That was more her style, or had been -still was, if watching her work the other night was anything to go by. But then again, he thought he'd handled himself rather better than he'd anticipated at the society party they'd attended.

"I don't give a damn what's good for business." Eris told him, being honest there. She wanted them to be successful, but at the same time, their state of content was much higher up on her list of priorities. "It's just the time where if you want to reinvent yourself? You can. So, who do you want to be? Or who do you want people to think you are? What's going to make you the most comfortable?" she posed, figuring if she put it that way he might be able to ponder it out better.

He considered that for a moment, before answering her with equal honesty. "Do I have to know right now? Or can I wait and see what feels right at the time?" he asked. He would prefer to do it that way. If they weren't putting in place some elaborate plan structured to get them the results they wanted, he would prefer to just be able to be himself - whatever that turned out to be.

"You don't have to know right now." Eris told him, giving a faint smile. She was quiet for a moment, letting the subject drop, even if she wasn't sure why. Or if she was just not saying things, or if she didn't want to persue the topic right now. It was possible she just wanted to sit there with him for a few moments, quiet.

Brett fell quiet as well, at first waiting for her to say something to that, and then grateful that she didn't. He didn't have that drive she always had, to know everything, to figure it all out, to have everything in place. He was much more content to go with the flow, accept things as they were. Sure, some things he would work hard to try and change, but generally, he didn't.

She sat there for a few long moments, then leaned closer to him, til her head was resting against his arm. Not really on his shoulder, but close. She was thinking she'd had a whole lot to drink, and they'd had a pretty grueling time. That maybe it was time to rest. Sleep. Start over tomorrow. She was aware if she let herself, she'd start going over and over everything again, and right now that wasn't going to be a positive thing. So she needed to not let herself do that.

He looked down at her, a little surprised at the move - it was softer and somehow felt more intimate than they usually went for. But it was in no way a bad thing, he found. That in itself was as surprising as the move, the fact that it felt almost comfortable, that his immediate reaction wasn't to freak and push her away as part of the principle of the thing. He looked down at her dark hair, and reached over to push it back out of her face. "Come to bed," he said, after a minute or so, breaking the silence, though his voice was a lot quieter with it than normal.

She looked up at him when he pushed her hair back, and watched his eyes when he spoke. There was the faintest little smile that touched her lips at his words. "Alright." she told him, tone warm if quiet, liking the invitation. Or, possibly it was less an invitation and more a request, or demand. could have been all three together, really, and she didn't so much give a damn what it was. She liked the sound of it.

He returned the faint smile and took a quiet breath. He still felt a little off-kilter, but even taking that into account, he felt worlds better. And he wasn't looking for perfection, right now, he would take what they had and be content. And he was - right now, he was okay with where they were. And that felt like a step up to him. That felt like an improvement, a vast improvement.