A/N: Not so much an apology as an explanation. This fic is labeled up as adventure. There's a reason for that. Unfortunately, NaNoWriMo hasn't long ended, so I'm still going through the pacing motions, same as I do most Novembers (writing 200k+ kind of calls for a slower pace, I suppose). So ... there will be adventure. And it should be coming up very soon. Anyway, this chapter is filler more than anything else - filler that's taken way too long to write due to a whole host of lovely distractions. Enjoy. :)
Chapter Two – The Problems
While she was asleep, she was silent, and while she was silent, it was all he could do to look at her. It was all he could do to stare, and to think about how much she appeared to have changed. It wasn't as though he was no longer attracted to her, just that he felt powerless whenever he was around her, not because she had the tendency to try and control him, but more because even if no-one else could, he could see how intent she was on destroying herself.
And half a year ago, he maybe might have been all too happy for her to do it. He would have been able to watch her drink herself into the ground or die, comatose, from an overdose of Med-X. But Benny had come to accept his position in her world. In her life. And it wasn't all that bad. Instead of having to get rid of her, all he had to do was upstage her, and now, she hardly ever seemed to care about that. Some time ago, sure, it would have bothered her, but now, she seemed preoccupied with … some cause. He didn't know exactly what it was.
Every so often, barely conscious, she would turn her head from one side of the pillow to the other, and he would just watch her. Her eyes would open for a split second and then close again. She would stare up at him without seeing his face and then she would disappear again and he would hear her breathing softly, gasping in her sleep. Or sometimes more than that. Sometimes she would mutter names he didn't know and felt threatened by. Perhaps, and this was something that almost always crossed his mind, she was not muttering the names of her previous lovers but instead the people who had wronged her. This had happened before, after all. And while it meant that these people had caused her to suffer, it didn't much matter because it at least put Benny's mind at ease.
"I just want ..." her hand brushed against his arm weakly, and it took Benny a while to figure out whether or not she was actually waking up. "I just want … things to go back to the way … they were," her voice was breathy and soft, the same way as she whispered in his ear before she went down on him sometimes. She seemed to wait, almost daring him to answer, to respond, her eyes half closed but still, at least, aware. "Is that … is that too much to ask?" her blonde hair fell around her head in waves on the pillow, and now, she was looking directly at him, but she didn't move. She still had on her dress, that slinky little one-of-a-kind number.
"Who's to say, baby?" and who was to say? Everything just seemed too different, now. Half a year ago, he was intent on getting his hands on Vegas, and nothing would stop him from doing it. Somewhere along the line, he'd stepped back and let her take it all, and even now, he couldn't figure out why. Vacant hope, maybe? The thought that she would let him have his share, and he couldn't deny that she had. That while she could barely move on account of her injuries, he had taken a more active role than she would have ever wanted him to. Benny didn't know why he started leaning into her in that moment. Maybe she just looked pitiful, staring up at him like that.
"We used to have so much fun," he wasn't sure that fun was the right word for it. No matter what she thought about it, he knew that he had always been wondering whether or not she would kill him. Every time they had sex, he could barely sleep. She'd wear him down and eventually he'd drift off, not knowing whether he'd wake up in the morning. But he always did, and somewhere along the line, sure, he supposed that started to thrill him. "Do you remember that, Ben-man?"
"Sure do, pussycat," he nodded slightly, almost laying down next to her, now, as she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. She might not have had a care in the world, the way she was looking up, now, sober, if only just, but he couldn't forget about how the rest of the evening had gone. About before that. About everything that had happened. "But you got all up close and personal with the General, remember, doll?"
"Yeah … but I had to," if it was any other time, she wouldn't have been telling him this. If they had been in any other place, at any other time, she would have scowled at him and walked away, refusing to respond, or else given him some excuse. Told him he'd spent enough quality time with several of the girls from Gomorrah before she came along, and maybe this was true, but it had been before they'd met. And this was without taking into account the guys she'd been all too happy to let him know about. It worked both ways, after all. "I told you before, I needed them on our side. We still need their protection."
"Honey baby, we got a whole army of Securitrons out-"
"I'm not so sure we'll have them for long." Maybe she was playing with him as she rolled onto her side and curled up. As she fell off the bed, not looking as graceful as she might have at one point or another, and started to reach for the buttons on the back of her dress, like she'd never said a word. It didn't make sense to him. She didn't make sense to him. Not the way she'd been behaving lately.
"Then why'd we get this joint swinging again, pussycat?" quick as anything, she shrugged off her dress, standing almost naked with her back to him. The skin on her back was clearer than the rest, he knew, free of all the scars for some reason, but all the same, it was something he didn't much think about. He didn't ask about it either.
"If people start to think we're in trouble, they won't come," her voice was too placid. She had sobered up too much. She had taken down a glass of water and passed out almost immediately after, but for some reason, Benny suspected she was either telling him this now because her judgement was still clouded, or because she felt as though she had a lot of making up to do. Perhaps both. "And if people don't come, we don't get anything back from our little … business venture." As she turned to face him, Benny withdrew his lighter from the chest pocket of his suit, feeling uncomfortable being fully dressed while she wasn't. It wouldn't have been the first time it had happened. He swore the woman spent more time out of her clothes than she did in them – some things, at least, never changed.
"You saying we're in deep water, baby?"
"Something like that." She didn't seem concerned as she bent over, looking through the night stand and pulling out a garment he had seen her wear too many times. The black lace and animal print might have excited him once, but now, it didn't do much at all. She was acting as though she hadn't just told him something important. Something heavy. As though tonight was the same as any other night. She was acting too casually, pretending that she hadn't just embarrassed him in front of a casino full of Vegas' high and mighty, the upper classes, big-leaguers from all over. Like she hadn't just caused them to look at him with such hatred like he'd never seen before.
She slipped on the night dress, but he couldn't figure out why that was. He knew what came next, and sure enough, she placed her knees on either side of him, forcing him to stay in one place and leaning in close, so that when he next breathed out, the smoke drifted against the side of her neck and disappeared into her white-blonde hair.
"You've certainly brightened up, doll," She didn't answer as she started moving her hips, pressing herself closer to him. Instead of using her hands to support herself, she used them to grasp onto the collar of his jacket, slipping it down over his shoulders. "But what did you mean about Yes Man, honey baby?" still no answer. His voice was muffled against her skin as she brought her face in close, her lips crashing against his so that when he breathed out again, this time, the smoke vanished inside her mouth and she didn't seem to care.
Sometimes, there was no real point in trying to argue with her, she would always be the one to have her way. Sometimes, it was all he could do to lean back against the head board and allow her to unfasten his tie, to unbutton his shirt, her lips following a path downwards that they had followed plenty of times before. Still, at least he didn't have to do all of the work, here. At least he could allow his curiosity to peak, even as she fumbled with his belt and unzipped his pants. Even as she was doing all this, Benny couldn't focus; not for the first time, he was feeling as though things were about to go very, very wrong.