They ended up in some random, shit-hole of a hotel. She paid the rent, and moved up the stairs. There was a short hall with branching rooms. Halfway down was a disheveled "room service" lady pushing a rusted trolley. By the looks of her, she was going to have to watch her stuff in this place.

Sands was walking slightly ahead of her, seemingly lost in thought. He made no reaction to the trolley coming straight for him, the lady steering it was not watching where she was going at all. When it was merely two meters away, Rana sped up, grabbed Sands by the crook of his arm and pushed him against the wall as the trolley squeaked past. He yanked his arm out of her hold scowling, then trailed her to their room. She had just opened the door when he pushed past her. She let him go, switched on the dingy light and closing the door, scanned over the room.

Sands

He moved forward confidently, slightly insulted by the way she had pulled him out of the trolleys path.

"Chair" she said in a bored voice from behind him, near the doorway.

"What?" he asked just as his knee slammed into a chair sending instant pain up his leg. "Fuck" he swore, then pulled his gun and aimed it straight at where her voice had come from.

"You think this is funny" he snarled. "Watch the blind man hit into things huh?" he got no reply. In fact he couldn't hear her at all.

"Answer me you bitch" he spat, his hand shaking from suppressed rage. Only silence answered him. "Fuck you!" he said and shot where he thought she was. His bullets hit the wall. He spun, sending bullets everywhere around the room, until he ran out.

Then he felt the gun in the back of his head. He froze, a snarl plastered on his face.

She said nothing. The gun remained and Sands slowly began to swallow his irrational anger. And then he realized the position he was in. "Fuck" he said for the sake of it.

"Better now?" she asked calmly. There was no mockery in her voice, there never had been and there never would be. He stomped away from her. Slamming the bathroom door behind him.

She went out and got some food. Sands ate it sullenly and she did nothing to try and change his mood. Then she took the rubbish out and came back. It was late and Sands listened as she prepared for bed. He stretched himself out on top of his own covers and was asleep before he knew it.

Sands

Sometime in the night Sands awoke. He was thinking about his twisted partnership with this girl. She didn't seem to think much of him. She leant a helping hand whenever she felt like it, other than that he was baggage that she had to lug everywhere she went. Whereas he saw her as vital to his plans.

But no, something was not right. He trusted her; he had come to accept that long ago. But she did not trust him. She did not fear him but she did not ask for his help, she did not allow him to learn her weaknesses, did not want him to know how she was hurt. Would rather die than place her trust in someone else. He felt his jaw tense. So what was this? She thought she could just become part of his life but he wasn't permitted to be part of hers?

He sat up, restless now. Throwing off his covers and moving swiftly to her bed. Somewhere in the back corner of the room. He found it, patted up it and found it empty. The sheets were neat, untouched. She had not slept here at all. He wanted to curse. Why hadn't he realized he couldn't hear her breathing?

He went out into the hall, heading for the downstairs bar. He'd had enough of her, he wanted some answers. Like her real name for starters. Her origin, her reasons for hunting cartel. He could guess what they had done to her, but why? What had her father done for a living, when did it happen, what had she done prior to it? Revenge for herself or her family. When did she leave the US and why.

Feeling his way down the stairs, into the murmuring of the bar room. Filled with drunks. Only a few were awake, most passed out on the table and those that were conscious could not talk any coherent language.

He felt along the bar, knowing she would be here. Sitting at the bar, probably in some strategic spot, where she was half facing the door and where she could hear every conversation clearly.

She was against the far wall, leaning half on the fake stone and the bar itself. He wondered if she ever slept. He sat next to her stiffly. "Can't sleep?" she inquired pleasantly.

Sands smiled in what he hoped was a plausible show of good will. There was no noise from her. He continued to stare at her through his sunnies. She sighed. "What do you want to know?"

He flashed a malicious glint. "Everything" he replied.

"Well I don't know if I can tell you everything, but I'll try" she said in a bored like manner.

Sands face remained blank.

"Maybe we should take this upstairs" he said, it was not a question.

"No I rather like it down here" she replied calmly. Sands mouth twitched downwards as he seized her arm and pulled her off her stool. Then he dragged her towards the stairs. Other than holding back she didn't put up much resistance.

"Put it on my tab" she told the bar man as she was pulled past him on her way to the stairs. Sands got her up the stairs and to the door of their room. Then he threw her inside and closed and locked the door behind him. She was being surprisingly docile about the whole affair. It sent his paranoia through the roof and set him on edge.

She was sitting on the chair in the corner next to the bed. Sands paced a bit, then turned to her.

"Name?" he snapped.

"Rana" she replied smartly, no small amount of amusement in her voice.

"You real name" he snapped again his ire growing. It was going to continue like this, he knew it.

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked distributing an air of mock innocence.

Sands advanced on her, placed his arm on the chairs handles and leant right in close to her face. "I said, what is your name?" he was fairly growling now. He had only enough time to feel her tense slightly and then immeasurable pain shot through him as she cleanly kicked him in the groin. He stumbled back slightly, and she stood and padded away to some other part of the room. He gulped a few breaths, and was able to compose himself rather quickly. But it had been enough time for her to have gone silent again.

He swore. She had unarmed him as she went, his holster was empty.

Then her voice rang out from his right. "I had to, didn't want a repeat of last time" she drawled dryly. "I didn't much like you bearing over me like that; I think we need a fairer system, so here's how it goes. I ask a question, and then you ask a question. If you don't answer then I don't answer. Fair?" He didn't answer, but she seemed to take that as a yes.

"Okay, let's start with the basics. Are you gay?" Sands mood lightened slightly. He couldn't resist this one.

"Why don't you find out?" he asked, moving towards her.

"Nice try but I don't have a gun on me anymore" she replied in amusement. He scowled and sat on the bed.

"Okay, what is your name sugar butt?" he asked sweetly.

"I'd prefer to be called Rana, but I was born as Gina Wyatt" she answered flatly. "My turn, so what agency do you work for? My instincts suggest CIA, but you can never be sure".

Sands smirked. "I don't work for any agency, I'm MIA".

"Okay, so that is a confirmation on ex CIA agent".

"What did your father do?" Sands asked without pause.

"Died" she replied flatly. Sands grinned.

"You're name?"

"Sands"

"Fair enough"

"Reason for killing cartel?" Sands queried.

"Torture, you?"

"Ditto"

"The eyes?"

"No shit, your voice…"

"Yeah"

"Yeah, you got two questions…" Sands pouted.

"No I didn't"

"Why'd you leave the states?"

"Wanted some sun…"

"Real reason?"

"I wanted to learn Spanish, thought it'd boost my career…"

"As what?"

"A singer" this got a snort from Sands.

"Hence the voice" she added.

"What exactly did they do?"

"Slit my throat".

"How charming."

"Why'd you leave?"

"Money"

"Of course, what else…" she trailed off.

"Family?"

"All dead. Ever married?"

"No".

"Well I say that concludes this happy little heart to heart."

"Fine by me darling"

She moved to her bed and rustled under the covers. Sands waited for close to two hours until he was sure he was asleep before going over to her bed, and retrieving his gun from under it.