AN: surprise? I decided to continue with this. I have accidentally started some kind of weird trash smut. sorrynotsorry
/
Victoria laboriously blinked her eyes open, lids still heavy with sleep.
A chill crept its way up her spine, and the thin hairs on her arms stood on their ends.
Someone was watching her.
She shifted under the covers, trying to reach with a hand for the gun under her pillow before realizing her wrists were bound, enticing a small gasp to escape her mouth. She twisted around in shock, scanning the surrounding darkness on high alert.
A light clicked on. The fluorescent sheen from the cheap hotel lights caused her to shirk her gaze away to the shadows, but a figure in the corner immediately caught her attention.
The offender sat lengthwise, draped over the patchy armchair in a lazy grace.
"This place doesn't really strike me as your kind of style," Max mused, fixing a silencer on to her gun.
Victoria forced out a breath.
"That's the exact reason why I shouldn't be easy to find."
The brunette hummed, giving a slight nod. She turned her gun over in her hand, studying it as she spoke, "The new tech team really knows their stuff."
Victoria pursed her lips in thought. Obviously an upgrade in security was well past its due date.
The two held each other's gaze in a tense match of wills, waiting for the other to slip and divulge information while bargaining with the other. But minutes ticked by and it never came. They knew one another too well for such tactics to work.
Blue eyes shifted down from green, and suddenly Victoria found herself remembering the state of undress she was in. She flushed as she turned in a moment of doubt, before a smirk slunk its way to her face and she eased out of the sheets a fraction more.
Max tensed, pointing the barrel at her face in an instant's notice.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting more comfortable," Victoria offered back with an air of nonchalance.
"Keep your hands where I can see them."
She shrugged, a loose strap falling away from her shoulder as she nestled her hands in her lap.
Max swallowed involuntarily.
"So," She began, as if they were having a casual brunch conversation among friends, "Care to fill me in on the premise of your 'End of the World' party?"
Victoria gave her a mockingly bemused look, "You couldn't have asked me earlier when you had me tied up?"
"Sure, if I wanted your back-up causing me trouble."
Green eyes crinkled as she gave a curt laugh, "And how do you always find yourself a step ahead?"
"Like I said, I have great tech. As well as a team I can trust," She paused for a moment in thought, sucking on her teeth, "Do you?"
"Hm, but how do you explain the bolas trick then? That was most impressive."
Max sighed, relaxing her grip on the gun as her arm tired, "Deflecting my questions isn't getting you anywhere. Did you want to keep this up all night?"
"Why? Are you asking to stay?"
Dripping from the faucet in the bathroom could be heard in the silence that followed. Max could feel her breath cut short as her body betrayed her; heart hammering against her ribcage.
She was playing at a dangerous game. No winners could emerge victorious. It was a trap to Victoria as much as it was a trap to herself. It was an all-consuming time bomb with no kill switch, triggered years ago when they had first set the other in their line of fire.
Victoria sat back smugly, watching her captor chew over her thoughts in a primal battle of instincts, fear versus desire. If it weren't for their extensive history, she would have considered the transaction far too easy.
Every bullet fired, every knife thrown; it was all foreplay. Neither could manage to kill the other, always teetering on the edge of oblivion, just to be pulled back to fight again once more. Sometimes, it was a matter of hours. Other times, months. But the anticipation never wavered as they lay in wait, constructing fantasies in their minds of when they'd finally bash heads again.
It was the age old scene of cat and mouse, roles reversed whenever the universe deemed fit, and relentlessly repeated until they knew the other's mind better than their closest of companions. At some point along the line, the hatred had become passion.
Trying to outwit each other, to gain the upper hand, it was an addictive thrill. One that neither seemed keen on giving up. This was their obsession. Their true mission.
The brunette finally broke the spell of silence in a weak voice as she straightened herself in her chair, "And if I was?"
Victoria chewed on her bottom lip. She slid slowly off the bed, and Max had to bite her tongue to distract from the blush creeping over her entire body.
She slowly stalked towards her, the grace of a dancer mixed in an exquisite cocktail with the sultry dominance of a killer. Max touched a finger to the trigger in warning.
She merely smiled back, arching a brow and raising her bound hands as if in an offering of non-violence. Both knew that was a lie. Both continued to play along anyway.
Long, powerful legs slid against her own as she climbed on to her lap, erasing any illusion of distance as she straddled her hips.
Victoria slowly looped her bound hands over Max's head and down around the small of her back, bringing their chests flush together. Heat sank across her body, and she could feel a moan begging for release as skin pressed against skin.
She leaned forward, ghosting her lips over the brunette's neck before nipping against her throat, "Stay as long as you like."
Max jerked. Something immediately felt wrong.
The prick in her neck didn't subside, and she could feel her body rage against the sensation. Max tried to push the blonde off of her, but it was too late. Numbness sank through her limbs, and she could only recall one more thing before her vision faded with the rest of her senses following suit.
"Checkmate."