I didn't really know how to describe Desmond at first. Sadly when I finally did think how to, the most fitting description I could come up with was that he was the kind of man who can use words alone to essentially bend you over a table and sodomize you, repeatedly, until you do what he wants. And a girl like myself, all alone in this world, can really only take so much emotional abuse until she breaks down in tears and whimpers; I'll do anything you want, please for the love of god just stop raping my feelings.

And then he called me pathetic.

Yeah, nice guy that Desmond. Ok, ok, I know that I'm supposed to be the tough-as-nails, badass, yet somehow still saintly Lone Wanderer but as much as I can imagine Three Dog shaking his head in disappointment at my little breakdown, I'm willing to bet that he'd either be crying or trying to commit bloody murder after five minutes in Mr. Lockhart's company too.

In my defence though, I did try to… Um… defend myself, which is a lot harder to do when you're sniffling and trying not to sob as you speak;

"I-I'm p-pathetic?' I warbled "whose t-the one p-picking on a g-girl?" and he sighed.

"Jesus H Christ, kid would you pull yourself the fuck together?" he said in that totally-not-sexy-at-all voice of his. I shook my head.

"No. I'm sick of you t-treating me like a p-punching bag when I'm j-just tryin' to h-help!" I sobbed.

"I swear to god, girl if you don't stop that shit right now I will be fucking punching you…" Desmond growled and I shrank back.

"Don't hurt me…" I whined and then cringed inwardly. Oh god, I really AM pathetic!

"Oh, for the love of… I wasn't going to.' He said and I could hear him becoming increasingly exasperated "What the hell do I have to do to make you stop fucking crying?"

And I sensed an opportunity…

"W-well…' I said, stepping a little closer to him "If my d-dad was trying to m-make me stop crying, he'd… Lemmesitonhisknee." I mumbled the last part so it was barely understandable, but the way Desmond's eyebrows shot up above his glasses indicated he'd heard it.

"Let you… What?" He said trying to sound aloof, but I could hear the note of interest in his damnably hot voice… At least I was fairly certain I could.

"He'd… Let me sit on his knee.' I repeated and Desmond stared at me.

"You want to sit… On my knee?"

"… Kinda."

"I said it before kid; I'm not your fucking daddy." He said and I managed to squeeze out a few more tears.

"F-fine. See if someone else will help you." I said, sniffling.

For a moment I wasn't sure if he was going to scoff at me, hit me or throw me right out of the mansion. I braced myself for any of those possibilities and then he sighed resignedly, sort of slumping down on a nearby chair.

"The goddamn things I do to beat that fucker…' he grumbled. I totally didn't care about Calvert at that moment; I was just thrilled to actually be getting something I wanted out of Desmond. I tried not to leap over too enthusiastically and sat down on his knee.

"Now hug me."

"… What?"

"…P-please?"

"Oh, alright."

I hoped he didn't notice the way I eagerly leaned into him as he put his arms around me, because it might give away the fact that the whole thing wasn't as paternal as I'd made it out to be…

"Kid, this doesn't exactly feel paternal to me."

… Drat.

"What do you mean, Desmond?" I said, trying for innocent and then tensed up as he growled, the feeling of it rumbling from his chest against my back almost distracted me from the fact that he was obviously pissed off… Well, more so than usual.

"Don't you fucking act naive with me, little girl.' He said in my ear and I shivered "What the hell are you playing at?" I noticed then that the hand of the arm he had around my waist was clamped down pretty hard on my wrist.

Eep.

I had a choice then; to flee and never set foot in Calvert Mansion again or stick around and try to explain myself… Flee, stick around, flee, stick around, flee… Oh damn it!

"Look, Des. Can I call you Des?' I asked, turning slightly to face him. His expression read 'a world of no' so I laughed nervously "Ahaha, ok… See, I've pretty much been off without any contact for a while now. I'm kinda lonely, um, in that way' I said, picking my words carefully "And, well, since I'm basically still here on your lap rather than on the floor with my brain scattered everywhere… Is it safe to assume that the feeling is at least slightly mutual?"

There was silence. And what a silence. I was beginning to feel rather awkward because, hello, I was sitting on the knee of a man who despite what I'd just said, I was pretty sure was about to turf me off of him and eviscerate me in a moment.

So it was a complete surprise when the death-grip he had on my wrist relaxed.

"You are fucking insane." Desmond said simply and I glared at him.

"Gee, real smooth seduction there, Casanova." I said and he fucking laughed at me.

"Come off it, princess' He scoffed "Seduce you? I've been around too long to bother with that ridiculous bloody façade. If I wanted you, I'd just fucking take you." I flushed at his words, jumping off him like he'd burnt me (which in one way, he totally just had.)

"You… Are so MEAN!" I yelled at him and he shot me a superior smirk.

"You're goddamn right I am.' He said evenly "And of course, better to be a mean bastard like me than a desperate, sex-starved waster like yourself."

My mouth dropped open wide enough to engulf a bloatfly and Desmond just continued his assault on my self-esteem.

"Yes, wake up kid; you're a moron. Pure and simple. Do you often go around begging complete strangers for a romp in the hay? Quite pathetic, really. And stupid, considering that half the people left in this world would sooner put a bullet between your pretty eyes than touch you…"

Don't cry again don't cry again don't cry aga- fucking dammit, I'm crying again.

"Stop…" I whispered as tears started rolled down my cheeks.

"Oh, I'm just getting started.' Desmond said "When you try to defend yourself, you do it meekly at best which I guess just fucking proves how mentally challenged you really are. And just look at you; if a goddamn molerat sneezed in your direction you'd probably fall over, you skinny little twit. How on earth did you ever make it out here alive, by the way?" I couldn't help but sink pathetically to the ground under the weight of his words and gaze then.

"If I'm so useless, why'd you ask me to help you…?" I asked miserably and he shrugged.

"Well, there was always the off, and I mean very off chance you would pull through.' He replied as he got to his feet "And even if you didn't, I assumed it would save me traipsing some of this sodding mud hole myself." He took my chin in his hand, lifting my tear-streaked face to his calm, rational one, and then just as I was silently begging him to break my neck and put me out of my misery, he bent at the waist and pressed a fleeting but hot open-mouthed kiss to my lips.

I blinked, stunned, and Desmond shot me a wicked grin as he purred;

"Now, do you still want to fuck or what?"


As it turns out, foreplay for Desmond is insulting the motherfucking shit out of you until you're a quivering heap on the floor and that's when he strikes. Yup. :D

~KD