Three

The morning that one cop and one prostitute shared was a lot tamer than the night they were destined to have later on. It started when Alfred woke up, shirtless, in his bed. He sat bolt upright, looking for Anya. He couldn't see her anywhere, but heard his shower running.

"Anya!" he shouted, "I thought we had a deal; where the hell is my shirt?" He pulled the covers off, noticing his pants were still on. Now he was confused.

"Your shirt, darling," Anya laughed over the running water, "is somewhere on the floor! You took it off last night because you got 'overheated'~"

Sure enough, a few minutes of searching later, he found it on the floor near the bed. As he began looking through his dresser and closet, he heard the water stop. Anya was in the bathroom, air-drying her long blonde hair. She'd made sure to change in the bathroom, since she knew sissy-boy would have a fit if she didn't. She slipped on her bra and underwear—the same ones from the day before, black lace—and grabbed a shirt she'd pulled out of Alfred's closet. It was a nice long-sleeved white dress-shirt. She pulled it on, leaving the top three buttons open, and pulled up her pink skirt. The shirt was so long it practically covered the whole skirt, but whatever. It worked. Somewhat.

She opened the door, stepping barefoot onto the carpet, past Alfred and over to her boots, which she began unzipping to put on. Alfred saw the shirt she was wearing, and how it hung off her shoulder, and how her bra showed right through it, and turned slightly pink.

"You aren't honestly going to wear that, are you?"

Anya finished putting her boots on, standing up straight. She looked a bit like a schoolgirl gone horribly wrong, with an innocent look on her face to match. She blinked, tilting her head slightly.

"Yes. What's wrong with it~?"

Alfred looked her up and down. There wasn't necessarily anything wrong with how she looked, it just… It wasn't something other people needed to see. Especially in public. He pulled out a shirt similar to the one Anya was wearing; but it was black. Anya glanced at it, before bursting into laughter.

"The only way I'm wearing that one is if you put it on me yourself~!"

She popped the collar up as a joke, snickering. Alfred twitched. No way was he letting her go out like that. Hesitantly, he moved over to her, his face turning red. Anya raised an eyebrow, smirking and putting her hands on her hips.

"Do it. Go on~!"

Alfred glared, shakily unbuttoning the shirt. Finally, he pulled it undone, completely showing off her bra and chest. Anya waited a bit impatiently as he pulled off the shirt and slipped on the black one, buttoning it up quickly and turning away, his face red. She smiled, patting him heartily on the back and laughing.

"That wasn't so hard now, was it~?"

The day continued to move like this. Alfred took her shopping, as promised, and made sure she didn't by anything unnecessary. Anya set up her end of the apartment near the couch, since the officer wouldn't have it any other way. Alfred got a call from work saying he had the night off, and that's where they currently stand; an excited Anya Braginski harassing a stressed Alfred F. Jones.

"Come on~! You have the night off! Let's do something fun!" she whined, clinging to his arm slightly, pouting.

"Anya, your version of fun is probably not my version of fun. I mean really." He pushed her away, dusting himself off and moving to the couch, grabbing the TV remote. Anya glared, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck from behind, resting her chin on top of his head.

"Don't be like that, darling~! I know this great place I know you'd like~" She chuckled, trying to convince him. Anya's only thought was that this guy had a stick up his ass, and he needed to let loose. She lightly massaged his shoulders, kissing the top of his head. "Pretty please, darling~?"

Alfred relaxed a bit, beginning to consider it. He put the remote down, pulling away from her. He held up his index finger. "One time. This is the one time I will let you take me someplace." he mumbled sternly, dead serious. Anya smiled secretively, pulling him up off the couch and out of the apartment.

"It's just around the corner from here, darling~"

She moved as fast as a woman in stilettos could move, pulling him along with her. Music emanated loudly from a building a few blocks down, and Alfred had a deep, sickening feeling that that was where he was being taken. This feeling was correct, but Anya took him around back, slipping through a door Alfred probably wouldn't have noticed on his own. It blended in with the wall, handle and all. As soon as she shut the door though, the sound was deafening. As they moved farther into the club, however, he slowly got used to it.

People were dancing all throughout the club. There was an empty cage in the center, and poles scattered all around the place. Alfred noticed there was money floating around, the girls on the poles catching what they could and shoving it all down their bra or underwear. As Anya sat him down at the bar, his facial expression became somewhat panicked and angry at the same time.

"Y-you! You brought me to a strip club!" He shouted over the music as Anya took a seat next to him.

"It's nice, no? This place is so much fun!" she laughed in response, quickly asking the bartender which drink would get her drunk the fastest. He brought out a bottle of vodka and a set of a dozen shot glasses.

"Why did I think you'd take me someplace decent…" he grumbled as Anya poured the shots, taking one herself.

"You are no fun, you know that? You're such a hard-ass!"

Alfred stared. He was fun… maybe it was just Anya that made him this way. The fact hat she was just so… He called it "off limits". Well, he would show her.

"I can be just as fun as anyone else in this room." He snapped, pulling the whole tray of shots away from her, downing three of them in under a minute. "Don't test me, darling."

Anya stared, her jaw dropping as he gulped down a few more shots, leaving only two on the tray. He slumped over on the bar, laughing. She smiled slightly, unsure of how he was feeling. Was it a mistake to bring him here?

Nah… he needs this~

She jumped as Alfred laughed louder, pulling her close. She saw the rest of the shot classes emptied, as well, and made the connection. She could tell he wasn't completely drunk; he didn't look the type to get drunk that easily. Anya smiled, leaning into him and slowly unbuttoning a few buttons of her shirt.

"Enjoying yourself, hun~?"

He asked for another round of shots, loosening up as he took more drinks. He could hold his liquor, he thought, but something was off about these drinks. He'd never had them before. He stood up, pulling Anya up with him. His words were a bit slurred as he mumbled loud enough for her to hear over the music

"This one's just for you, darling!"

He laughed, hopping up onto one of the elevated stages with a pole. The girl who was there originally moved aside, eyeing him as he took his shirt off, throwing it into the crowd. The DJ put on another tune as Alfred began dancing on the pole. Anya's eyes widened and she bust up laughing as the crowd went wild. He looked so professional, it was kind of sad. People were throwing money by the bundle at Alfred now, chanting for him to take his pants off. Anya sat back down at the bar, watching contently as the events unfolded before her eyes.

Her smile faded, however, as the crowd began grabbing for him, moving him towards the cage. Those who weren't helping him in were either helping the other guy into the cage, or cheering wildly. Money was flying everywhere as Alfred swiped a drink from someone in the audience, swigging the bottle down before moving into the cage, a confident smirk on his face. The other guy was put into the cage, and Anya noticed he was just as smashed as Alfred. The two ran at each other as the DJ turned up the music. They were all over each other, like animals, and Anya thought that was enough. Alfred needed some dignity by the end of this night. She got up, making her way to the cage, pulling it open and grabbing hold of him. His lips were locked with the other man's, and she yanked him away with all the strength she could muster.

They fell to the floor, money raining down on them, Alfred laughing like nothing had happened. Anya twitched, pulling herself to her feet, and Alfred along with her. She moved him through the club, back to the back entrance and outside. Alfred turned to look at her, a huge grin on his face.

"Aw man, that was awesome! I haven't been this excited in a long time!" He laughed again, nearly bouncing with energy. Was he really as drunk as she'd thought? Anya tugged on his arm; his shirt still inside.

"Let's go darling, that's enough fun for one night." she sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. She was beginning to think she liked "tight-ass" Alfred better. She dragged him along, urging him to keep quiet. He wouldn't want to get in trouble with the police—with his own work associates—would he?

Finally, she managed to usher him back into the apartment. Never again was she going to get him this smashed. As soon as she locked the door and turned around, however, she felt Alfred's lips smash against hers. She squeaked, unprepared for this gesture, and pulled away. Alfred blinked, surprised by her lack of interest. He was still shirtless, and she noticed for the first time that his pants were undone too. Good lord. She pressed a finger to his lips, keeping him at bay.

"Sorry darling," she murmured, chuckling softly, "I don't do drunks~"

She kissed him on the cheek, the chuckling turning to laughter at his dumbstruck expression. She pulled him into the bedroom, laying him down on the bed.

"What if I paid you? I made plenty of money tonight, what if I—" He was cut off as she covered his mouth with her whole hand this time.

"I don't do drunks, hun. Ever~"

Reluctantly, he got comfortable in the bed. Anya made sure he was on his side, so that if he vomited during the night he wouldn't… well, choke. She changed into her frilly nightgown she'd bought earlier and snuggled under the covers on the couch.

Yep, Anya Braginski didn't do drunks.