- It seems you're less drunk now. So you can let go of me.
Let go of Eames, but certainly not.
And just because she looked irritated, didn't mean he wouldn't sleep with her tonight.
He was going to take her from his room and show her all the pleasure a man could give a woman.
Name of God...
But that wasn't possible.
What had she got herself into.
Wilson was still clinging to her, refusing to let go.
Couldn't he at least give her a little space.
Admittedly, he was drunk, but that was no reason to behave like that.
Especially when the woman in question was none other than his superior.
In addition, Eames had had more than enough, and she was simply losing her patience.
And it took a lot to put her over the edge.
For Wilson, this did not bode well.
And it would be better for him if he let her go, right now.
- You'd better let go of me. And go to bed.
Oh no, surely not.
She was going to accompany him to his room.
Especially as his roommate still wasn't there, since when they'd gone into the living room he'd seen him there, deep in conversation.
So, he could take along Eames in his room...
And sleep with her.
- I said.
He moved away from her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her by force, forcing her to follow him.
Eames put her little fingers on Wilson's hand, trying to pull it away, but he squeezed her wrist so hard that she couldn't pull her hand away, and found herself following Wilson into his bedroom.
Wilson opened the door to her room and forced Eames inside with him, closing the door behind him.
- The two of them at last.
What.
The two of them at last.
Oh no, surely not.
She wouldn't let him make.
He went and sat down on her bed, and patted the spot right next to him.
- You're coming.
Pardon.
Ah, but that was out of the question.
Who did Wilson think she was.
She wasn't the kind of woman to sleep with the first man she met.
In addition, she would never do anything with him.
And besides, she was already with Goren.
So there wasn't even a question to ask.
Her heart sank as she thought of Goren.
She'd left him all alone, in that cupboard, to bring back that drunk Wilson.
Just when she had finally managed to be alone with him at last, Nichols and Stevens had to arrive.
But tomorrow, she would have a chat with those two, who had managed to spoil the moment she had with Goren.
- I've already got someone.
- So what.
Of what.
Eames had trouble hearing.
She was telling him she had someone, and he...
But who did he think she was.
She wasn't that kind of woman.
And never would be.
- I know you're like all the other women... He stood up, came dangerously close to Eames, put his hands on her arm, and pulled her by force. Don't make you pray. I know you want this as much as I do.
Of what.
She was dying of envy for it as much as he was...
Ah, but no.
Not at all.
She wasn't attracted to Wilson at all.
And she couldn't stand him.
Especially that arrogant look on his face.
If he hadn't been a good detective a long time ago, she'd have kicked him off her team.
Eames put his hands on Wilson's, trying to remove them, but he was holding on too tightly.
Then she saw red.
She slapped Wilson's hands with all her might, but he didn't let go an inch.
- You'd better let go.
Let her go again and again.
He was getting tired of hearing the same verse over and over again.
Besides, what was Eames complaining about?
She could have picked a lot worse than him.
Like her former partner, who was said to be mad.
And how could he not have been, knowing the mental illness from which his late mother suffered.
It was simply hereditary.
And Goren was no exception to the rule.
So Eames should be grateful to him.
She could have slept with that madman.
Keeping his arm in her hands, he forced her to sit down.
- Accept my initiative. You won't find better.
No better...
Ah, because he thought he was the best of the best.
But too bad for him, she already had much better.
- No thanks.
No thanks.
Wilson felt the mustard rising to his nose.
- No, thanks. He screamed, shaking her like a rock. And why.
- I already have a boyfriend.
Her boyfriend again.
Wilson was sick and tired of hearing that excuse.
- Why do you always talk about your boyfriend?
No, but what a question.
It was quite clear.
She cared about her boyfriend, and she didn't want to hurt his feelings.
- My boyfriend's the worried type... A small, tender smile appeared on her face. And I can't do that to him.
Pardon.
What were her stories.
And that touching way she talked about her boyfriend.
You'd think she was in love with him.
But even that didn't matter to him.
He wanted to sleep with her, and he would.
- You don't want me to implore you, do you.
Implore her...
No, but Wilson was not well.
In addition, she'd told him no.
And no meant no.
And he should have understood.
So why come back to it.
- I wouldn't cheat on my boyfriend. It's out of the question.
- But...
Now it was enough.
Eames tried so hard to extricate himself from Wilson's grip, but he refused to let go.
- I'll only let you go if you kiss me.
This was the last straw, Eames raised his hand and with all his strength brought it down on Wilson's cheek, which shocked and surprised him, let go and brought his hand to his cheek.
Eames being free at last, she didn't waste a second, got up and moved quickly towards the door.
When she reached the door, she stopped and turned round, her face red and scornful.
- I would never cheat on my boyfriend... And never with someone as arrogant and drunk as you.
With these last words, which she had just shouted, Eames opened the door and left the room, slamming it behind her.
