I'd like to think...

...that Carly would tell Sonny during the custody battle in a vicious fight that lead to the kitchen floor, but that's just my dirty mind.

But you know... it'd be great.

i He glared at her. "How'd you pull it off anyway, Carly? You hate Alexis, she hates you, almost as much as I do. And yet, somehow every time I look over in the court room she's practically kowtowing to you. What did you do?" She huffed a little and rolled her eyes. Her arms crossed over her slightly heaving breasts. "Did you find some incriminating photos... threaten to resurrect the Eddie's Angel bit? Nah, that wouldn't scare Alexis enough. Maybe you signed an affidavit about the night you walked in here and saw us in bed," he took a step towards her, smoothing out his voice, "and you threatened to take it public. Nope you already did that."

He listened as Carly growled deep in her throat and her eyes narrowed even further. "You're so off your game today Sonny. I didn't take that public. Scott did. He stole some really good material from me. Try harder, dig deeper. Maybe you'll figure it out."

"Hmm. You have something on her that could get her disbarred. Or That the Quartermaines could use to take her child again."

"Nope." She had a smile on her face, he had dimples on his.

"So why don't you tell me?" His hands were inside his slack pockets, his eyes dark despite the smiles, his tone hot even with the chill.

"You'd never believe me." The strange humorous expression on her face, like that on his, seem to only edge higher, more hysterically, with the tension and ferocity in the room.

"You know, you're right. I wouldn't. Know why?" He asked, posturing a hand, then rubbing his lips. "Because you're a liar. You've never really been sure how to tell the truth or even what it is. Why should I believe you? Why should anyone?"

"You're right Sonny I lie. I lie through my teeth, but I'm not the only one who does. You want to know what I've got on Alexis, fine.... Kristina..." she laughed, "her daughter..." her mirth bubbled over again, "the one she waved under my nose," near hysterical laughter for the terrible way fate played with them, "she's yours." She sighed and tried to reign her giggles in. "Isn't that a riot?"

Sonny laughed, stiffly, also reeling from fate's knife, "you played that record once already, Carly. Maybe it's you who's off her game. How would you expect any one to buy that now? Then again I don't know who you expect anyone to buy you as anything other than a whore either but..." he shrugged his shoulders, switched his head back and forth, avoiding the guts he saw spilling from her eyes, the pain.

"Oh, what, like you're any better than I am?" She unfolded her arms and made ready her attack. Strongest defense is a good offense. "You're running around with another Brenda wannabe. Didn't learn your lesson with The Banana, did ya? Nope. Had to go out and find another dumb, blow-up doll you can use and throw out with the trash. Speaking of Alexis, you can believe me or not, I don't care." Her face made it almost believable but there was still that pain in her eyes. Pain he'd always seen.

"Blow-up doll, that's good." He gestured out with his hand, his face fairly straight.

"Aw, gee thanks, Sonny." Hers was stone, very angry, hot, sarcastic, stone.

"You made an ok one yourself. Not exactly my type, but, you know, whatever will do in a pinch."

She tried to laugh it off, the cut deep into her, but folded her arms over her open coat again. "Oh, so you think that's how you got lucky?"

"I know it." He shrugged, hands back in his pockets.

"You're wrong. You only got within two feet of me because I wanted to tear everything to shreds as quickly as possible. Be as miserable as I could make myself. That just happened to be with you, letting you touch me."

"Oh, right. That's just another of your lies, Carly. So many lies, how do you keep 'em straight?" His feet inched towards her, his heart picking up with the thrill of the fight. "Can you keep 'em straight now?" He shuffled a little closer and she glowered at him, daring him almost to take one more step, daring herself not to back away when he did. "'Cause I bet you can't. I bet I could reach out and touch you whenever I wanted." His hands came out of his pockets, brushed his jacket. "Wherever I wanted." His hand came up. "Like," his fingers curled, "right," the hand came towards her cheek, "here," a few more inches and the backs of his fingers would brush her cheek, "right," he moved so slowly towards that goal, "now."

Just as he was nearly touching her she lashed out with her teeth, hoping almost, to catch his flesh.

"Jesus," he said, snatching his hand to the side. "You really are just some animal aren't you, devouring up what ever you want?"

She huffed in an ironic humor. "Boy, are you slow. Don't you get it? Or are you just forgetting. You're just an animal too, grunting and rutting to whatever burrow is nearest, preferably short with dark hair and eyes. Pathetic." She tossed her own blonde hair unconsciously as she nauseously leered at the length of him.

"You know, Carly, I never thought I'd say it, but you're right. I'm just a selfish beast, I see what I want and I take it and I make it mine." He meant so many different conquests, possessions, people and his eyes showed how he meant to keep them.

"No, you're a monster." She cut well, a practiced slice, like a surgeon, like Jack the Riper. /i

He'd be coming up with all sorts of disgusting ways she got Alexis to represent her and she'd tell him he'd never believe the truth. He'd leer and say she was a liar, nothing she ever said was true, why should he believe her? She'd toss it out there, laughing because fate is this big knife twisting in their backs and it's the only way she can keep from crying. He'd laugh it off. The same reason. Like he'd believe that now. He'd call her a whore, she'd say he was no better, using poor, dumb Sam as a blow up doll. He'd tell her she made a good blow up doll once. She'd tell him he was lucky she wanted to destroy everything or he never would have gotten to touch her. He'd bet he could reach out and touch her anytime he wanted. And then he would. His hand to her cheek. She'd try to bite him but just miss. He'd call her an animal. She'd say he must be forgetting something, he is too.

He'd say she was right. He was a beast.

She'd correct him. A monster.

i

"That's right," he nodded at her, his eyes pouring hate into her own, hers beating out with fury into his. "Little girls shouldn't be out alone at night, bad things happen. A monster could get you, eat you up, so there wasn't even enough left to spit out."

His body seemed to grow to her. Or maybe it was that he seemed closer without actually moving. "Well, then it's a good thing I'm no little girl. See, women don't have to be afraid. Not if they know how to bite back."

As she'd just proved...she did.

/i
And he'd say, little girls shouldn't be out alone at night, they just might get eaten. She'd say women don't worry about being eaten when they know how to bite back.

i

Seeing them it was as if they were a quarter second from dancing in some devil's rite of loathing. Their bodies seemed almost together, their faces so close the world around them had been blocked out by their opponent's face. It was as if... as if in an instant they would kiss.

/i

The whole time they'd be getting closer and closer together. Until just by opening their mouths to speak they are almost kissing.

i "Well, then little woman, let's see who eats who first." Whatever small space was left between their lips was suddenly gone as both gave in to the pressures of the past, the present, the inescapable future, the pull of their bodies, and their phoenix souls. His mouth tore into hers and hers bite back, tongues lashed like whips leaving pain that burned down their insides, out of their bellies, and felt good.

His hands grabbed her arms, pulling her closer, giving him more leverage. She pushed them off her arms, regained her ground, shifted her weight to him. He palmed her chin and stretched his fingers over her cheeks, making dimples at the pressure points. The other hand he fisted in her hair, pulling her head back. Using his own hair as handles, she steered his head, his mouth. He released her chin, and wrapped her mane around his other hand as well. She dragged her fingers down his neck and jacketed back, her short but sharp nails scoring him. She clawed her way back up to the neck of the suit and yanked it down, the sudden shake jarring them both to the burning core and setting their bodies to shudder.

Their lips apart, they both panted, their eyes as intent as they were when sickled words were spoken. He brought his hands down from her hair and she wrested the coat from his body, both heard stitches tearing out, he ripped hers from her shoulders as well.

And their mouths met again, all teeth and devouring, like tigers, beasts, animals....

He wrenched the delicate knit of her shirt apart, baring bra and breast. She tore his shirt, popping buttons, and they tangled arms trying to be more rid of the fabric. The collision of more flesh became only more fury to the fire, rage to the demolition. Finally free of it, her hands returned to his back, caressing for a short moment then once again demanding, hostile, with scoring nails. His fingers bruised her sides as he pulled her hips closer against what had become the aim.

Rocking her chin up, she breathed as his mouth traveled down the underside on softest flesh to the column of her neck, suckling in sweetness then instantly in gorging.

Hungry beasts, animals in heat, lovers in battle.

She reached for his belt as his hands slid down her thighs, both pulling, needing, the heat of the kitchen, too intoxicating to leave, too liberating to forget, too famished to want to do either.

Finding more clothes to tug and tear and toss away, more flesh to press to flesh they tangle, they drop.

Bodies devouring, consuming, eating, feeding. There. On the floor. Like so many times before. /i

Then he'd say, let's see who eats who first, and he'd kiss her. She'd kiss him. They'd tear each other's clothes, hair, you'd be able to see his finger prints on her face, her nail scratches on his back. She'd yank off his belt, he'd pull up her skirt...Maybe they'd make it to a rug.

ohhh. It's a little hot in here. I'm gonna go get some water... Sorry... I kinda rambled.

Sy5