"I can't help but be a bit suspicious."

"Is my kindness really so unbelievable?"

"After five years, we haven't been out to dinner once."

"That can't possibly be true."

Rather than try to fight his blatant untruth, she let her gaze fall over the hazy yellow details of the room. It was all smoke and candlelight; really quite unsurprising that he had picked it.

"Regardless, I retain the right to suspicion."

"It's a good habit to have, I won't dissuade you."

Lifting the wine glass in front of her, she took a deep sip, "So what's the plan?"

"Plan?"

"Is a night out supposed to make me forget everything leading up to this point?"

"Depends on how good the night is." He averted his eyes from her cold stare, coughing uncomfortably when she didn't laugh at his joke. "Damn, Violet. Not everything has to be so serious. Can't you just have a good time for once?"

"Can I?"

"I'm not- This isn't a ploy. I'm not angling at anything; you can calm down."

A waiter brushed past their table, silently collecting plates, leading them into a heavy silence.

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" she spoke in a whispered tone, muffling her voice once the server had left.

"I'm allowed to be nice to you. Although if it would make you more comfortable, we can sit in silence."

"I'll pass."

"I thought you would." He took a drink from his own glass, "You couldn't be silent if you tried."

"Oh no?"

"No. You have entirely too much to say, too many opinions." She did smile at that, a sarcastic smirk. "See? You are more comfortable when I'm unkind."

"I'm used to it, is all."

He hadn't an immediate reply, too caught off guard by the damnation within the sentiment.

"I apologize, then."

"Don't- don't do that."

"Do what?"

"This. Whatever this is," she gestured towards him vaguely, "it's strange, and I don't like it."

"Excuse me?"

"Pretending like things are different, better. You'll exhaust yourself trying to keep it up."

"I'm only trying to show you that I'm capable of kindness."

"Suit yourself, but I have five years of experience to base my decision upon. A few nice restaurants can't change that."

"You think I'm trying to bribe you?"

"Aren't you?"

"No. There are easier things with which to bribe you. Do you really think I'm stupid enough to try to trick you? How long do you think it would take for you to figure me out?"

"Not long, evidently."

"Too quickly. Pardon me for showing you some courtesy, but I can promise you, Countess, any kindness I give is not a bribe. It's a gift."

"What's the difference?"

"I can show you fondness without making promises I don't intend to keep, can't I?"

"What do you gain, then?"

"Gain from what?"

"Why not bribe me? Why not make promises you can't keep if it gets you to your end? It's certainly out of character."

"If you stay, I don't want you to be able to pretend I plied you."

"Suddenly you don't want responsibility?"

"No, only, I don't want you acting like I am in any way forcing your hand in either direction."

"You expect me to believe you don't have an agenda?"

"I expect you to recognize that I will not be held accountable for your decisions."

"Why even bother to give me the choice then?"

"You act like it is mine to give."

"Isn't it?"

"What else can I do, Violet?" He leaned forward, his elbows braced against the table, fingers pressed together, "Lock you in the tower? Kick you out? I'm smart enough to know that you'll rebel against anything I choose. I don't want you to blame me when you inevitably figure out that nothing can ever make you happy. There is no right choice, only choices you can live with."

"Now you're just being a nihilist."

"Am I?"

"Who's to say I can't be happy?"

"What makes you think either of those options will make you happy?"

"Well, perhaps not now, but down the line-"

"Regardless, I don't claim any culpability for your plausible fulfillment."

"Don't you?"

"I don't."

"Then I'll leave."

"If you think that will make you happy, fine."

"You just said there is no happiness."

"And there shan't be, at least not in a clean, happy-ending sense."

"And why not?"

"Nothing will change."

"Everything will change."

"Everything?"

She nodded solemnly, "How could it not?"

"If you think this insignificant choice on your part will have any bearing on how your volunteers or I live our lives-"

"I don't."

"Then what changes?"

"Wherever I go, it will be my choice."

There was a heavy silence in the air between them as they both collected the weight of her words. Steadying himself, he took a sip of his drink. Tracing her finger around the rim of her glass, she stared down.

"I- Did you ever think of killing me? In the beginning?"

He looked up, startled by the frankness of her question, her calm face reflecting none of the emotional distress one would expect from such a thought.

"In the beginning? No. Not seriously, at least."

"Why not?"

"Honestly? I didn't want to move. It would raise a lot of questions I didn't have time to bother answering."

"When was the last time you did? Killed someone?" Looking down, he fell to serious contemplation of his drink before shrugging nonchalantly. "You don't remember?"

"I didn't exactly mark the date."

"Was it recent?"

"If I had killed anyone recently, you would know, wouldn't you?" He looked back up at her again, and his gaze was stiff, unfolding. Again they lapsed into silence, the chatter of the restaurant maddeningly loud. "Does the thought scare you?"

"It doesn't scare me."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"I don't-"

"Do you like the thought of sleeping with someone who has the capacity to kill?"

"Do you?" Her gaze was sharp and cutting, her hand snapping up quickly, "Don't answer that."

"You don't want to know?"

"I hear enough of your thoughts as is."

"You're not the teeniest bit curious?"

"I don't have to be. You've made your stance on the matter abundantly clear."

"I suppose I have." Smirking, he sank back into his chair, studying her. "Do I get to ask you questions now?"

"I didn't realize there were rules to conversation."

"All the same, I've played fair. Now I get two honest answers."

"Alright, fine."

"What was the first time you thought about me erotically?"

She physically recoiled from his words, pulling back, "Oh my god. You are the most infantile-"

"Too late, you already promised."

"I promised nothing."

"But you agreed, and your word is binding."

"I-" She sighed, resting her face against her hands, taking in a deep breath. "Fine. If you want to waste your question, fine."

"Well?"

She didn't move from her position, thinking.

"The first time was based entirely in fear."

"Fear?"

"Naturally. You didn't think I was stupid, did you? When you dropped me on that couch the first night, I cried from relief."

"I don't like this question anymore."

"You've already asked it."

"You know that wasn't what I meant."

"Then you should have clarified."

"I wasn't aware I was conversing with a genie."

"That isn't my fault." She shrugged, not feeling particularly sorry.

"You're cruel, Countess," he reprimanded her as she finished her wine.

"You still have one question left."

"I don't need it," lifting the carafe, he refilled her glass.

"That's seriously all you wanted to know?" She cocked an eyebrow in disbelief.

Shrugging, he rested his head upon his hand, "It's a piece of the puzzle I've yet to put in place. Almost everything else follows from that."

"Pardon?"

"You make very little sense at all outside of your own motives. Of course you wanted to kill me; you're like a child who bullies the girl he has a crush on."

"Are you accusing me of having a crush on you?"

"Well sure, anything can sound stupid when you say it like that. Perhaps the phrasing is weird, but yes, I am accusing you of having a crush on me."

"I can't believe-"

"Do you deny it?"

"Of course I deny it! Does it even count as a crush if you're married to the person?"

"Why do you ask?"

"To point out how stupid the question is!"

"I was smart enough to marry you. Smart enough to survive you, too."

"You're a real genius, aren't you?"

"I recognize the sarcasm, and I'm electing to ignore it."

"If I'm such a hassle, why not take the opportunity to be rid of me?"

"You know why."

Silently she shoved around the food on her plate, feeling the weight of the oppressive air around her.

"The first night you got me drunk." The words came out all pressed together, with hardly any space in between.

"Pardon?"

"Do you remember it?"

"That depends. When was it?"

"I stabbed a man with a fork."

"You know, I do seem to recall that," he smiled, amused.

"You gave me some wine and made me sit with you."

"And?"

"And," she gestured out, circling her hand. "That's… it."

He took a moment, parsing everything together, "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

She shrugged, looking equally perplexed, "I don't know."

"Don't get me wrong, I recognize my irresistibility, but I've had more purposefully charming moments."

"Perhaps your definition of charming is the problem."

"Perhaps." They fell to quiet again, each avoiding the others gaze. "So… was it the wine, or?"

"Maybe? I don't know."

"It would explain a lot."

"It would. But not everything."

"No?"

"The wine didn't make me like you as a person or anything."

"I hardly think anyone's ever accused you of that."

"It was just- It was quiet. It was quiet and crept up on me like… I don't know. Just, all of a sudden, your hand was on my leg, and I didn't entirely hate it."

"Do you suppose stabbing a man had anything to do with it?"

"Be serious."

"I am. Once you stab someone, you tend to be in control of the situation. I think you just like being in control."

"Can you blame me?"

"It would make me a hypocrite if I did. Not to meddle in your affairs, but do you think giving your life over to a secret organization will ever allow you control again?"

"I thought you didn't want to meddle."

"I'm only trying to help. You're blind to yourself, Dearest. Why do you think you even have to bother choosing? Not because you want to stay with me, particularly; you just want the option of a life where you can make your own choices."

"Staying with you sounds about the worst way to do that."

"You've said it yourself, everything's different now."

"Spoken like a person with an agenda."

"I never claimed to be bipartisan. You know my platform, I'm only trying to speak to you from yours."

"And what's your platform, again?"

"That I love you."

For a moment it looked as if he would reach for her hand, but he stopped himself.

Sighing, she placed her hand to her forehead, steadying herself, "You know-"

"I know."

"You can't-"

"I didn't-"

"God damn it."

"Language."

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

"No," she brought her hand down to her chin, watching him sadly, "I'm not." The room clattered with the sounds of the other patrons. "Are you?"

He stared straight at her, unblinking in his conviction, an almost apologetic smirk ghosting across his lips as he took a sip of his wine, "No."