Cassandra swept into the tavern in her usual hurried manner. She paused for a moment, looking around the room with a huff. She spotted the Iron Bull and stomped over, pulling out a chair and taking a seat next to him at the bar.

"All right." Eyes forward, she didn't even look at him.

Bull paused, bottle halfway to his mouth. "What?"

"All right. Yes." She took a deep breath and then turned, her sudden eye contact ferocious. "You've been propositioning me for weeks. Yes, I accept. Let's go."

"What, now?" Bull asked gruffly, matching her tone.

"Yes. Before I come to my senses and change my mind."

Bull held her gaze a moment, taking hearty swig of his drink. "No."

Cassandra's face screwed up in that easy anger that usually got her her way. "No?" she asked, drawing the sound out and leaving it hanging in the air like a threat.

"No, we're not doing it like that. Settle down, order a drink. Talk first."

"I don't see why we need to-"

"I do. You don't really want to do it that way, either," Bull said matter-of-factly.

"You think you know what I want better than I?"

"Maybe not what you want, but I have a pretty good idea what it is that you need. I have a knack for that sort of thing. Though why sex seems to be the thing everyone in this damn Inquisition needs is still a bit beyond me…"

"Maybe it's because when all you have is a big hammer, everything starts to look like a nail, Chief," Krem offered helpfully from the corner of the bar. Cassandra was beginning to regret starting this conversation in a public space.

"Thank you, Krem," Bull said through gritted teeth, apologizing to Cassandra with his eye. "Say, why don't you go see if any of the other Chargers need any helpful insights tonight."

"You got it Chief. Anything you need," he said cheerfully as he hopped off his stool and went to join the rest of the Chargers at the back of the tavern.

Cassandra's scowl simmered. Public humiliation had not been what she was looking for. But she was not ready to give up and walk away, either.

"Now, about that drink. Though you know, Seeker, the more you give me that ball-busting glare, the more I want to change my mind and say let's go, right now…"

"You… you really mean that, don't you?" Cassandra asked, surprised. No man had ever found her quick anger to be a turn-on before. Though Bull did seem to be particularly attracted to her strength. She relaxed a bit, disarmed by his comment.

"Of course." He waved the bartender over. "The lady will be having a…"

Cassandra paused, then sighed in defeat. "Whatever he's having."

The bartender's eyes went wide, and Bull coughed out a laugh. "I don't know Seeker, you probably want to be at least conscious for what happens next."

Cassandra could admit when she had made a mistake. She inclined her head graciously. "No? An ale, then."

When the frothy mug was set before her, she dutifully took a sip, then set it back down and gazed back at Bull levelly. "So, if you won't leave with me now, so we can…" she stumbled over spelling it out, "you know…" she rushed to finish her thought, "then exactly what is it you imagine will be happening next, that I want to be sure to be conscious for?"

"See, you can't even say it," Bull teased. "Don't you think we should be able to talk about the things we're going to do to each other's naked bodies, before we get started?"

"I-" Cassandra found herself at a loss for words, taken aback by his combination of insight and crassness. He had a point. His one eye gazed at her intently, and she struggled to find her answer. But suddenly all she could think about was their naked bodies, sweaty and tangled together. "I suppose… I am not always one for talk."

Bull rewarded her with a grin. "No, I guess you're not. But a little talk is always good, before we play the kind of games I think you want to play." The look in his eye grew dark, lusty. Cassandra felt a shiver go down her spine as she imagined being toyed with under that gaze.

"Games?" Cassandra asked.

"Yes, a game. A test, if you like, if you really don't want to talk about this first."

"Now I need a test?" she asked with a frown, wondering if she should start getting offended.

"No, you need to test me," Bull replied. "Barging in here like this, barely looking at me… I'm not convinced you actually want this yet." He drew his body closer to her. "Me touching you." She felt her breath draw in deep, but she nodded her head. He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. "Pushing you down, stripping you bare, filling you up…" he growled, low into her ear.

Then he sat back, and returned his hand to his drink. "So we're going to wrestle for it." He tipped the bottle toward her and then raised it to his mouth.

"Wrestle?" Cassandra asked, breathless.

"Yeah," he grinned, "just a friendly sparring match. That sounds like the kind of bodily contact you're much more comfortable with. And we'll just see what you let me get away with."

"What you get away with." She knew she kept repeating him, but she was completely surprised by this turn of the conversation.

"That's how I want to do this, Seeker. You're just magnificent in combat. You make me rock hard. I don't want you to just give yourself to me tonight. I want to fight you for it."

Cassandra blushed then. The Iron Bull displayed no shame at all, despite the intimate words and unorthodox request. And she realized she wanted it that way too. It was this… combative quality to their relationship that attracted her to him in the first place. She just hadn't known how to ask. What to ask for. "So, the game is, we grapple, and… I try to stop you from…"

"Only if you want to stop me," Bull interrupted.

A corner of Cassandra's mouth turned up in a smile. "Only if I want to stop you," she mused.

"For you, Seeker, I think this might be the best way to get you to be honest with me. And with yourself." Bull took another pull off his bottle. "And if you don't like what I'm doing, you really want me to stop, you say 'satin.'"

"Satin?"

"They call it a safeword. Something out of character, that you would never say in the heat of passion, that lets me know you don't want things to continue."

"And mine is 'satin,'" Cassandra said, amused at his inventory of her character.

"Am I wrong?"

Cassandra inclined her head in bemused agreement. "I will admit, I am fascinated by your game. Let us do this your way."

"Absolutely." Bull tipped his bottle up, draining its mysterious contents in one final swig. He stood up from his stool, suddenly towering over her. "Finish your drink, and then meet me in the yard behind the stables. I have a feeling we're going to need some room."