Her thoughts were soft with the effect of the wine, reeling after one another as loose ends and frayed bits. She kept wiping the table, trying very hard to focus on her work.

"So, was it worth it?" She clenched her jaw at his mocking tone, not able to respond. He smirked, crossing behind her, swirling the wine in his glass. "Come now, why so shy?" He laughed at his own joke, falling down into his chair. She averted her eyes, annoyed at his antics. "Have nothing to say? That's new." He rolled his voice over his words, obviously already drunk. She ignored him, refusing to even look at him, but she could feel his eyes still. "You know," he sat up, "I don't believe I've ever experienced silence at your hands. It's quite nice." She fought the urge to shoot him a dirty look, forcing herself to focus. It obviously irritated him, he wasn't used to being ignored, and he tapped his fingers against his glass loudly. She refused to give into his childish games; she wouldn't humor his nonsense any further than she already had.

He didn't like this, didn't like the idea of her being able to ignore him. It wasn't that he needed to be the center of attention so much as the fact that he DESERVED to be the center of attention, particularly hers. He stood up again, walking behind her, dusting his fingers across her hips.

"Cat's got your tongue?" She swatted at him roughly, but didn't speak. He frowned. This plot was backfiring immensely. He traced his fingers along her, brushing the hair off her neck, drunkenly trying to sway her affections. She sighed, bracing her hands against the table before turning to face him, arms crossed.

There was such anger in her eyes. It was volatile, packaged TNT, a string of firecrackers that he very much wanted to light. He pinched the tip of her chin, tilting her head up.

"You said you wanted to play the game." She didn't move, just continued looking at him accusatorily. He sighed, "Your silence is off putting, please stop. I am commanding you to stop."

She glanced over him curtly then turned back to her work.

"Are you deaf now too? I said you could talk."

"That doesn't mean I WANT to talk to you."

He smiled, satisfied, kissing lightly behind her ear, "Such sharp words for such a nice girl."

She craned her neck into the kiss instinctively before stepping away again, "Please let me alone."

"What's the matter, couldn't handle it? I told you you weren't ready." She turned back to face him, all anger and annoyance at his arrogance and carelessness. He was a terrible man, and she hated him. She crossed her arms, trying to still her shaking frame.

"So what are you going to do?"

He cocked his eyebrow, "Pardon?"

"During, after, whatever. What's the plan, what are you doing?"

"I thought that was clear-anything I damn please."

"And what pleases you? What do you want?"

He frowned down at her, "What a silly question. Money, retribution, power, what else is there?"

"What else, indeed?"

"If you're still having moral qualms, I can't help you. I can promise you none of this is being done in the name of self-serving 'nobility,' so-"

"Get off that, we're way past that now."

He looked down at her, surprised, "Oh, we are?" He shook his head bemusedly, "You really are lucky you're still pretty enough to be useful, because you-"

"Oh, am I? Am I really? Well, thank you EVER so much for being kind enough to say so."

She threw down the rag, storming off. He followed behind, yelling after her.

"See? I knew this would happen. We're in a fight again because YOU thought you could handle things you obviously CAN'T!"

"Well pardon me," she turned to face him, "if I happen to believe that gruesome acts should only be undertaken for things greater than, what was it, wealth, women and power?"

"That's where you're wrong." He stepped up to her, "a motive is a motive, and there's still blood on your hands regardless, Miss Innocence. The sooner you learn to reconcile that, the better off you'll be."

"Honestly, do you see the ENTIRE world as disposable?"

"I take what I can when I am able to. I'm not ashamed of that."

"And everyone else?"

"Is far less important."

"Yes." Her voice grew cold, "That's what I thought."

"This is why I didn't want you there, I-"

"Just, drop it. Forget it, I…" she trailed off, her voice going quiet before she turned, stumbling as she tried to walk. He caught her, holding her up.

"You're drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"You're not sober."

"That doesn't mean I'm drunk."

He held her by her arm, letting her lean her reluctant weight against him. He was so warm. How could he be so heinous? There was a callous cruelty in his general perception of everyone as potential sacrifices, but she would feel even worse if she knew he had planned to lose her this entire time. She righted herself, using him as support, wondering if her inebriation helped or hurt her cause of forced endearment. She closed her eyes. She could feel his bones beneath his clothes. She held onto his arm. He sighed.

"Sometimes I forget just how much you have to say."

She laughed, a single breathy, sarcastic laugh that made him feel lighter, but it was a moment before she spoke again.

"Why don't you think I can help?"

"It's not that I don't-"

"It's because you don't trust me, I know."

"I've already made it clear that I find your actions admirable. It's not that I don't think you can, it's that I don't think you should."

"Since when are you interested in protecting me?"

"I'm not."

"No, I get it, I'm just some sort of rare collector's item, right? Your nice trophy? A convenient reminder of your accomplishments to date?" What would happen once she was no longer a part of his greatest success story? She folded herself into a nearby chair, reprimanding herself for acting so contrary to plan.

"What's got you so angry?" He reclined into the seat beside her, picking a glass up off the table and finishing it.

"I'm not angry."

"You're always angry." He put the glass back down, "You're an angry drunk."

"I'm not drunk and I'm not angry."

"Alright, well." They sat in a heavy silence. "What did you expect? This couldn't have surprised you."

"It didn't, I just- I suppose I forgot."

"Forgot?"

"Forgot what it was like to be in on the murder."

"You can't be serious."

"You used the word exterminate."

"And I meant it."

"I know."

She stared at the floor, unable to look at him. She was being so stupid. She always knew it was like this, but it had never been so raw before, so real. He sighed again, spinning the glass on the table. What happened after this? What did he mean by "finished?" What happened to her once this was done? She could spend the rest of her life trying to protect her family, but there was no reason for them to want her. She was ruined, she had nowhere to go. He was all that she had, the only thing left. She needed to get it all together, to make sure she was so far in that he couldn't get rid of her, that he wouldn't want to get rid of her.

She looked at him. He was wretched and horrible, and he was all that she had.

She stood, sighing, "Just, forget it. I'm going to bed."

"You don't need to be a part of this, you know."

She stopped, turning to face him, "You know that I do."

"Did you really not think-"

"No, I knew. It's just weird is all. It's easy to forget sometimes."

"Forget? Forget what?"

"How cold you can be."

"Cold?"

"Exceedingly so."

He smirked, folding his hands behind his back, approaching her lazily.

"You find me cold?"

"Only when you're not acting jealous."

"Jealous? Do I look like the sort of man who becomes jealous?"

"Then you didn't mind? Your man gripping my shoulder?" He shrugged. "And how about when he touched my leg?"

His face paled slightly. Had they really been so bold? She smiled smugly. He scowled, unamused.

"If anything, you're the one who seems to care. Do you want me to be jealous?"

"Are you saying you aren't?"

"I'm saying you are."

"What would I have to be jealous of?"

"So you're satisfied then? With everything? You have enough?"

"My Dear," he gripped her chin, "there will never be enough."

She met his gaze as brushed his hand off roughly.

"So," he looked down on her patronizingly, "you find me cold?"

"Only most of the time."

"Most of the time?"

"Yes."

He circled behind her, running his fingers along the back of her neck. She closed her eyes.

"I can't be all that bad."

"Don't you always insist upon being the best at everything you do?"

"You just have to know everything, don't you?"

He held her arm, guiding her gently alongside him out of the room.

..

...

..

AN-

(Y'all have been awfully quiet lately... I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing)

Cheers