A/N: Here's a quick look inside Ajedrez's pretty little head. R/R
You know you are beautiful, perfect. Everything everyone wants and wishes they were. So you know you have that fucking little monkey wrapped around you perfectly manicured little finger. Daddy's little girl *always* gets what she wants. Sure, you don't really *want* this guy, but you need to get him out the way. Plus, he's so oblivious to everything around him that he forgets, or more likely doesn't realise, how vulnerable he really is. You can do your job, and have a little fun as well. Nobody said work couldn't be fun. It's all about corruption and lies, and where better to do so than the city of corruption and lies itself. Mexico. Not too shabby yet at the same time, too aware of itself to realise all of the shit happening on its' streets. So you watch in smug happiness at Sheldon fucking Sands lying face down in the dust with blood caked on his face and his leg bleeding profusely into the ground.
"You fucking little monkey, get up". And you help him to his feet and hold him there. You place his sunglasses on his face, because, even though you've seen some stomach churning shit in your line of work, you'd like to hold onto your lunch thankyouverymuch. You admire your reflection in the dark lenses. It's a shame he can't see you, really, it is. Because he really was the only person who wasn't busy enough to forget to remind you of your beauty. He really did like you. Never mind. All good things come to an end. Such as: Sheldon's flattery. "See anything you like?" You really were always a bit too vain, now you think about it. So, when you feel the coolness of the gun press against your stomach through your thin shirt, you start.
As you lay there bleeding into the dirt of Mexico, you hear him answer. All good things really *do* come to an end. "No." Such as: you.
You know you are beautiful, perfect. Everything everyone wants and wishes they were. So you know you have that fucking little monkey wrapped around you perfectly manicured little finger. Daddy's little girl *always* gets what she wants. Sure, you don't really *want* this guy, but you need to get him out the way. Plus, he's so oblivious to everything around him that he forgets, or more likely doesn't realise, how vulnerable he really is. You can do your job, and have a little fun as well. Nobody said work couldn't be fun. It's all about corruption and lies, and where better to do so than the city of corruption and lies itself. Mexico. Not too shabby yet at the same time, too aware of itself to realise all of the shit happening on its' streets. So you watch in smug happiness at Sheldon fucking Sands lying face down in the dust with blood caked on his face and his leg bleeding profusely into the ground.
"You fucking little monkey, get up". And you help him to his feet and hold him there. You place his sunglasses on his face, because, even though you've seen some stomach churning shit in your line of work, you'd like to hold onto your lunch thankyouverymuch. You admire your reflection in the dark lenses. It's a shame he can't see you, really, it is. Because he really was the only person who wasn't busy enough to forget to remind you of your beauty. He really did like you. Never mind. All good things come to an end. Such as: Sheldon's flattery. "See anything you like?" You really were always a bit too vain, now you think about it. So, when you feel the coolness of the gun press against your stomach through your thin shirt, you start.
As you lay there bleeding into the dirt of Mexico, you hear him answer. All good things really *do* come to an end. "No." Such as: you.