Prima Donna
leon, you princess!

There was a time once when she had him wrapped around her pinky finger. She tells him this, and he snorts derisively, and she shoves him into the dirty water leading into the alleyway.

He may be in denial, she thinks, but she remembers all to well. Pictures that he thought had been destroyed actually had been copied and stored away secretly. Such discriminating evidence, she smirks, and he pales.

Admit it, she tells him, just tell me that you remember and that it happened and I'll never speak of this again.

He looks at her with the expression of a man who's been pushed and shoved and prodded far too many times and agrees in exasperation. So there may or may not have been a time where she got him to dress up in high heels and a feather boa.

And makeup, she reminds him.

Yes, and makeup.

While singing along to Cher.

He stops, grimaces, and nods very quickly while glancing around with a covert glance to make sure that nobody had overheard their conversation. She skips along beside him, turning around to smack him in the mouth with her scarf.

Admit it, she says again, I had you wrapped around my finger.

He glares at her menacingly, but the effect has been lost on her for some time now and she grins impishly at him, still flapping the ends of her scarf at his head.

I hate you, he grumbles, and she smiles.

(The truth is, he still is.)