Disclaimer: Dead or Alive and all characters belong to the retired creator Tomonobu Itagaki, the publishers Tecmo and the developers Team Ninja; GrimGrave does not own anything regarding those, nor is he making any money out of writing fiction.
Ulterior Motive
Part 2
The week that had followed after the incident at the bar had been heaven, ironically. Christie was never one to associate herself with anything of the angelic paradise.
Christie knew she had by now torn down the veil and ripped it to shreds – there was nothing covering the mind puzzle that was Helena Douglas, and the truth had the sadistic British woman throwing fits of giggles. It excited her as much as it did bother her, though she couldn't for the life of her figure out as to why it would; Helena Douglas, whose mother had died at Christie's hands, had not responded with even a hint of detest back at the bar.
…Maybe a hint, on second thought.
Though the blonde's shocked expression had been priceless.
Christie laughed – chuckled – this time. When she would meet her archenemy, the lovely Frenchwoman, there would be Hell to pay, but it would so be worth it. As the assassin went to get changed, she couldn't help but to ponder the situation. Ultimately there was no question in Christie's mind.
She wanted the Frenchwoman. She wanted Helena Douglas; and when she thought how she wanted her, she really, really wanted her. It was a twisted euphoria to gain power over someone, and their history together only added another layer of flavour that the assassin relished to sample.
If the supple skin of Helena's cheek had been that sweet, how on earth would the actual lips taste? The thought thrilled her to no end, but she wasn't dumb enough to rush things – Christie wanted Helena to dwell on this just as much as she was.
And if Helena was as frustrated, in a good way, as Christie was, then their next encounter would be more than bittersweet.
::::::
There was a certain degree of amusement to walk back into the same bar again. Patrons cast a second glance at the pale-haired woman with disheartened expressions. Some, while few, promptly left the bar as soon as they saw her.
Christie sported a smirk. The evening was still young, but she knew her blonde would eventually show up; this was her favourite one after all. The assassin smiled a wicked smile at the bartender as she took her seat upfront.
"Whiskey on the rocks." She said plainly, giving the fidgeting bartender a cold stare. "And be quick about it." The bartender immediately hurried.
She felt good. And she damn well knew she looked good too. Her wardrobe may be bountiful, but her current garb was definitely the right thing for tonight; she wore a pair of slacks, a shirt and a matching office jacket, all as ivory as her hair, with red stiletto-heels to wrap it up. As a final touch, her full lips were adorned with a lush, ruby-red lipstick.
For better measures, the jacket wasn't buttoned while the shirt remained only unbuttoned at the top, thus showing off her ample cleavage. A leg shifted over the other, and with the cold glass of whiskey in her hand she felt completed and ready; now she just had to play the waiting game.
The beverage was cool on her tongue as it slipped down her throat. The taste lingered pleasantly, allowing the assassin to fully savour her drink as she patiently waited for her blonde.
Her blonde. She liked the sound of that.
Christie could see from the corners of her eyes how a few more patrons left, and a wicked smile adorned her lips. So the blonde had decided to hit the bar early as well? It only worked in Christie's favour.
She felt a presence behind her within seconds – there was a pause in the sound of footsteps – before the Frenchwoman leant over at the wooden counter at Christie's side.
"I see you're here this time."
This time? Christie sipped at her whiskey. "You expected me to be here earlier this week?" Christie had meant to simply turn towards the blonde with a sneer, plain and simple. Instead, she felt like dropping her jaw all the way to the whole-covering carpet.
At her side stood the blonde, hair kept in its usual ponytail with a red ribbon this time. But that's not what caught Christie's eyes; her outfit was a black opera dress with red trim, followed by dark, loosely transparent stockings and black shoes, also with a red trim around the ankles.
Or as the assassin would delicately summaries; sex on legs. Sex on legs topped with the equally sexy French accent of hers.
She caught herself staring a bit too much, and too long, at the Frenchwoman but when she thought she couldn't be baffled any further, she noticed it; Helena's eyes wasn't fairing any better.
Azure orbs had stuck on the exposed cleavage i.e. Christie's chest. Had she even blinked?
Taken slightly aback, but amused nonetheless, Christie mockingly cleared her throat. "Eyes up here, sweetheart. Up. Here." She gestured with her index finger, a smirk rising from her lips at Helena's expression; she looked like a kid caught with the hand in the cookie-jar.
"I know they're perfect, but it's still rude to just stare like that." Christie couldn't help but to mock Helena like this. It was even more satisfying when the blonde didn't have any comeback to counter with. "Do you like what you see?"
The azure eyes had settled with a simple glare before they averted towards the barman. Helena motioned him over. "I was merely shocked to see you show off like this. You must enjoy being ogled at."
Christie smirked victoriously. "You're a bad liar. I walk around like this practically all the time… Especially when I supposedly was your assistant. Don't tell me you never noticed."
When Helena didn't answer, the assassin couldn't help but to chuckle, a smug grin adorning her features. And it might just have been the dim lights of the bar, but was that a blush on the Frenchwoman's cheeks?
"Very well. We'll drop that subject." Christie said with a grin, enjoying the moment as Helena finally looked back at her (with a quick glance down at the cleavage again). "So, my dearest French bird, what did you mean by I see you're here this time ? Hm?"
"I…" Helena began. She was hesitating with her words now? Interesting note. "I had hoped to find you here again… You got some nerve to kiss me, of all things!"
"It wasn't even on the lips, dear." Christie remarked, mockingly. "Or is it perhaps that's why you're crossed with me? How inconsiderate of me…"
"I …" There it was again – hesitation. "I would never want that. It was bad enough that you got that close to me in the first place."
"You say that, but you've thrown glances at my chest the entire time. I'd say there's a conflict with what you say and what you think, sweetheart."
She took another sip of her whiskey. "Besides, you claim to be pissed off but you're sitting here, right next to me, enjoying a drink and having a conversation with me. That's about enough contradicting as it can get. So tell me... What exactly do you want?"
The blonde had surely been on edge, despite her calm exterior. With a narrow dodge and a regretful throw of a half-filled whiskey glass, the ivory-haired woman found herself in the middle of the bar again.
It felt like deja-vu.
Patrons cleared the bar as the two battled it out. Kicks and jabs narrowly missed, but the destructive dance of their martial arts wrecked chairs and tables alike.
Though Christie had always loathed Helena's fighting style; the blonde was fast, and her martial art was meant to confuse the opponent with constant, sweeping motions as opposed to her own.
Helena swept her leg at Christie's feet, but the ivory-haired woman jumped in time. True to her Snake Fist Technique, Christie quickly jabbed at Helena's midsection, knocking the blonde back with an audible groan as the latter fell to the floor.
She quickly got back up at that same moment, not wasting a second to simply lie down. Generating speed and strength from her hips, her arms reeled back and returned Christie's jab and hitting the latter like a whip.
Both threw their next punch simultaneously, resulting with a double knockback that sent the women down at the floor, briefly. Getting up and poising to strike again, Helena arched her leg back for a high kick that barely missed Christie's head.
But that's hardly what the assassin had in mind. She threw the blonde a sly smile as she instead of taking advantage of Helena's exposed situation, ducked a bit further down.
"I see London, I see France…"
Helena's face lit up with a red shade of embarrassment as she quickly withdrew her leg and tried in vain to hide behind her opera dress. "D-don't look!"
"- I see Helena's underpants…" She smirked with glee. "It's only fair since you stared at my breasts earlier, don't you agree?"
"Silence!" Helena shouted back. "We're… we're not done yet!"
The assassin frowned. "That may be true, but I hardly think this is what you want." She nonchalantly walked over to the blonde, past broken tables until she stood right in front of the latter.
Azure eyes met steely-grey, and Christie firmly but gently lifted Helena's face up by the chin. "You're not fighting back."
"That's because you're confusing me."
"I'm confusing you, am I?" Christie replied. "Well you sure enough confuse me too, so I guess it evens out. You've ogled my chest, you hesitate with your words and you're not even fighting me right now. What is it you always like to say…"
"Ah, yes of course. "What happened to all that spirit you had?". You're awfully quiet as well as dispassionate."
Their eyes didn't look away from each other. They could see their reflections in each other's eyes, and a surge of wills and wants was slowly rising to the surface.
Was it just them or had the temperature in the room just gone up quite a bit?
Christie gave the blonde a sly grin. "Your outfit looks marvellous."
Helena blinked, clearly puzzled. "…Thank you?"
"Still…" Christie began. "I feel it lacks something…" Her thumb brushed across the pale skin. She felt the blonde shiver slightly at the touch. "Oh… "
She caught Helena's lips passionately, without warning. Their lips melted together in heated unison of slick friction as Christie initiated a deep kiss over and over. Her tongue took advantage of Helena's parted lips, coiling inside her wet cavern and dominating her orally.
She could feel the blonde tremble beneath her, but soon those hands – those same hands that had jabbed at her - were clutching onto the assassin's shoulders. Their lips sealed together, they could only let out muffled moans in the passionate moment.
Their bodies were grinding together, ample bosoms rubbing together sensually as they deepened their kiss - it felt right. Everything, from teasing and coaxing the blonde to tasting her lquid oral passion, felt so damn right. Christie knew she wanted, nay, demanded more of this moment, and by Helena's firm grip on her shoulders she knew the feeling was bloody mutual!
Alas, now wasn't the time. But soon...
Christie let out a throaty chuckle as she sealed their moment with a final kiss, chaste and genuine. She smirked at the dazed expression of the blonde who even struggled to glare back, and brushed the swollen, lipstick-marked lips with her thumb.
"There we go… A spot of red." She chuckled again. "Right there. That's what was missing. You're good to go."
"W-what?"
"You look like you're about to blow a gasket." The assassin jokingly exclaimed. "I'll get out of your hair now, dear. Enjoy your drink." She stepped back from the blonde and began to walk past her.
"W-wait a minute!"
The ivory-haired assassin looked back, smirking. "Yes?"
Helena looked like she was about to say something – but she caught herself. Her face was flushed, and her azure eyes settled with a prompting glare as she remained silent. Christie winked with a grin and continued to walk out of the bar, knowingly swaying her firm hips for Helena's gaze.
As much as she would be regretting this later, the assassin couldn't help it – Helena was her prey in more ways than one. And as sadistic as she was, she enjoyed nothing more than to torment Helena one way or another into giving in completely.
Very, very sadistic indeed.
