Who the &#*% are you?

[Alisa Donnikova]

God this was a long day. And it was hot and humid too! What the hell was up with that? A cigarette hung limply from Alisa's mouth, her hands stuffed into her pockets as she walked down the streets of Central doing her best to ignore some of the stares she was getting. God damn people haven't seen a fucking merc before?! What the fuck was their problem?! "I swear to f***ing god I'm going to shoot someone if they stare one more goddamn...." She muttered in her native tongue, both because it was natural to, and just because she knew Amestrian's could be really freakin touchy. Drawing in on her cig, she blew out in frustration, her ponytail flicking to one side as she turned her head to glance around.

The only reason she was even here was because she had just finished up a job and got paid, leaving her wondering where she should head off to next. Wasn't like she had any other jobs lined up right now. Least not yet. She didn't doubt that something would come up though. Always did without fail. As she walked past a couple of men in uniform, she guessed that they were either militants or police or something considering they looked at her Cutlasses with a raised eyebrow. Yet they didn't stop her. Good. Better for them.

"Where the fuck can a girl- Ah-HA! Bingo!" Grinning to herself, the sour look vanished from her features as she spotted a bar, not even really caring to look at the sign. Didn't matter, long as they had booze. Her untied green, military grade boots thudded on the pavement as she walked in the door, finding only a couple of people inside at the moment. What, they didn't drink during the day? What kind of bullshit was that?! Sometimes I actually miss Drachma. What the fuck is up with that.... Taking one last draw on her cigarette, she practically stabbed it into an ashtray, turning her brown eyes to the bartender. The grin had mostly remained on her features leaving them pretty friendly all considering.

"Hey barkeep, what kinda stuff do ya got?" She spoke, easily transitioning into the language with only a hint of an accent. Her hands were now resting on the bar, though they were clenched, her hangs just barely stopping above her eyes. He blinked at her, glancing from her guns to the tattoo on her right shoulder before her face, turning to look at his stock. "Well the usual's. Various beers..." He paused as he saw her eyebrow twitch out of the corner of his eye. "Couple of rums, vodka, whiskey, rum, gin-"

"Hold right there pops, I'll take the whiskey." Her grin had widened even more, gaining an almost wicked look to it but she was merely excited. God she hadn't had a fine whiskey in a long ass time. Leaning back on her stool a bit, she cast her eyes about the room, feeling some of the patrons eyes upon her. Her eyebrow twitched again, her hands tightening further in their fists as she resisted all urges to bust out yelling. The bartender soon handed her the glass, turning away to continue whatever he had been doing. Oh Alisa felt like a giddy little kid as she picked up the glass and took a good swig from it, ignoring how some people stopped at the fact that she seemed so unaffected. Mmm..... that was a damn good burn down her throat.....

Smacking her lips as she placed down the now empty glass, she smirked at the bartender and tapped the counter twice, signaling she'd like a refill. "You might as well just pass me the bottle pops, I can do it myself." She chuckled, happy enough to ignore how hesitant the man seemed. She passed him cash for it, knowing that would shut him up about the matter and leave her be. Once the top was off of the bottle, she started pouring. Hehehe... Let the drinking begin!

[Spade Aeries]

"My best friend died," he whispered to the fellow shadows leaking below the streetlights around him. Footfall continued to echo along in endless arrays down the sidewalks until finally stopping in front of the furthest bar from Central Head Quarters: Jahoolagins. Spade Aeries stared listlessly at the wooden sign above and heaved a silent sigh of regret. Why had he come here again? Of all places...this should have been the one he left alone. The bell rang blankly when he opened the foggy glass doors and entered into the air conditioning. Humidity clung to his skin, running down the curving muscles of his arms to his finger tips that clutched desperately at a bent cigarette. It was just too damn damp outside to smoke. He slid the stick between his chapped lips and lit up with his dented zippo, taking a long drag and holding it in. The bartender spotted him and slunk over with the smuggest look Spade had ever seen on a guy. Was he that satisfied to have the Brigadier General on his shift? And where was Frank anyway? It didn't matter. No, you know what, Spade was glad he didn't know anyone here. He had just woken up from one of the worst hangovers of his life and was about to buy himself another. In other words, he was going to make a fool out of himself. And no one he knew needed to see it. No, not even Frank. And sure as hell not the ghost of Markus.

Spade blew out his smoke to the sky, which he realized too late to be a ceiling fan that spread his breath all over the damn place. He frowned and lowered his eyes back to the greasy-haired man who held a inquisitive look as if asking you-seriously-want-me-to-put-forth-the-effort-and-ask-what-your-sorry-ass-wants-to-drink?-I'll-just-stand-here-and-stare-at-you-until-you-figure-it-out-for-your-own-damn-self. Spade slammed his fist onto the granite bar and bared feral green eyes at the man in response. He recoiled, nearly soiling his white apron--or whatever the hell it was--with the bottle of whiskey he was about to deliver to some broad across the table. "Tequila," the playboy hissed, sliding his favorite sunglasses off the top of his head and over his eyes. It wasn't his night. For once, he clearly wasn't drinking for joy; he was drinking to drown. And if he died from alcohol consumption before they set out to war tomorrow, they'd get along fine. Apos and Ike may feel some sadness, but it was nothing they couldn't get over in face of the larger picture. Just how many...how many people had to die at the cost of him? Why hadn't he been the one to fall off the ferris wheel? And why...why was it all coming back now of all times?

Yesterday he had gotten the last of the stitches removed from his back. He was a free man--a free man in pain. And the dull ache brought back the memories of slamming into the jagged protrusion of metal and then...the regret that followed--the regret that crushed him. And the only way to escape was here. Here alone, basking in memories he wished he could erase. A shot was poured when the bartender returned. Spade downed it and signaled another, downed that, and then took the bottle. Tequila tasted like shit, but it did its wonderful duty. On the fifth, his vision was already swimming and the fact that he was still taking the painkillers that deliberately declared not to consume with alcohol did not help. In fact, Spade was pretty sure that he was endangering his life. But... how much of a life did he really have left anyway?

He leaned his left elbow onto the bar, revealing the cold, black ink of the tattoo on his shoulder. An upside cross, lop-sided wings that matched the silly smile on his face, and viciously carved nails that read SIN. Below it, it said: When you gunna learn as if mocking him. Now...more than ever. Because apparently he hadn't learned. Shirley slayed Spade's heart with his own hand, Markus slayed Spade's soul with his own foot. What was next, his tongue?! It was all over; he was done for. And as he took the last drag of his smoke, he crossed his legs and gracefully fell off the bar stool in a heap of man. Of course, that was after he collided headfirst into a wonderfully clad rack of woman. He grinned just before he hit the ground, the leather of his pants sticking ruefully to the smooth, elaborate tile that didn't look so clean up close. Gross man.

Spade took a moment to fix his sunglasses before anything else happened and then staggered to his feet. "So sorry there, miss..." he murmured sincerely for once with the most depressing look etched into the silhouette of eyes behind the shades. "Too much tequila," he added as a halfhearted joke. Maybe the mixture of medication and booze was really getting to him. A hangover and five shots didn't do this shit to your equilibrium. "The name's Spade Aeries, my hobbies are playing cards, dealing war, and drinking beer. And may I say your the first woman I've ever seen to have such a beautiful murderous glare." Now, he was just trying to get killed, but normally the girl's he encountered would just blush and shy away. She...was different...

[Alisa Donnikova]

Alisa's ears perked up at the sound of the bell though she didn't look over, smelling the cigarette smoke that had begun to permeate around the room, licking her lips at the sensation of it. Hm.... to start another smoke.... Now that was a fair question indeed- Her thoughts were interrupted as she briefly glanced over to the stranger that had walked in the door, blinking as she looked down to pour her whiskey. Man, he looked like shit. She didn't want to know quite frankly, downing the glassfull with utter joy as it razed like fire down her throat into her gut. It was a pleasureful sort of pain, hearing the man order tequila. Huh, not her drink of choice but whatever. If he wanted to get shitfaced that was on him, it'd just add to his oh-so-cheerful disposition.

It wasn't until about her sixth shot or so that she could feel the tingling in her body, sending shivers up her spine with a small chuckle. Ohhhhh that was gooood..... Her mind began to drift to the spoils of her most recent assignment, debating what she should buy with her money besides booze and smokes. Ammo. Ammo was always good.... Maybe another tat? Her eyes cast about the room again as she felt someone staring, narrowing at the prospect of it. There was a distraction though, and it happened to be the hell-faced man. Or more specifically, his shoulder. There was a tattoo there, raising an eyebrow as she looked it over before staring down into her glass. Learning hm? What did that ever do for her? Just led to a bunch of arguments and-

Her thoughts were rather rudely interrupted as the man suddenly fell from his barstool and landed in her tits. A look of utter rage spread across her features, no.... no across her entire body. She half-stood up from her stool, letting go of her glass before her hands clenched into fists. "WHAT THE-- THE FUCK IS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM YOU LIMP DICKED SON OF A-" She barked, catching herself as she looked him over again. This was a man in pain, albeit a drunk man in some kind of pain. And she couldn't hit him. She had one hand raised to come down with a vicious punch, but it just hung there as she stared at him, gritting her teeth together against the string of curses that wanted to jump out. Her one foot was ready to wham into his body, but that too held still. What the fuck. She really couldn't hit him.

"Tch. What the fuck." She snapped under her breath, flopping back down into her stool with a frustrated, but surrendering manner, pouring herself another glass before downing it. Oh sure, apologies all fucking around. She soothed herself by telling herself at least he hadn't done worse, her brown eyes rather steely as she glared down at this hurting being. Seriously, what the fuck. "No shit sherlock." Alisa had herself another glass, this time sipping at it rather than just gulping it down in one go. She was quiet, her eyes darting to a spot before staying for a second, then moving on until they rested once more on this Spade Aeries. Why did that name sound familiar...... Oh well, whatever. It was the last statement that gave her pause, her glass resting at her lips before it tilted back to allow that delicious fire to slide into her body. Huh, was she hearing him right? How the hell was she... In her head she was grumbling, her brows furrowed for a moment before she focused back down to where he just sat there on the ground. He did have a nice voice though. Bastard. WTF.

"Well ain't that all just fucking peachy Spade Aeries. My hobbies are killing people, killing people, and.... oh yeah, killing people. Lets not forget beating the shit out of drunken idiots who don't know who the fuck they are messing with. But I guess you'd better count yourself as fucking lucky today huh?" She spoke, turning away for a brief moment as her emotions roiled around within her. And rather suddenly, she kicked the front of the bar counter rather hard, startling most other people in the room. "WHAT THE FUCK!!!" She barked rather loudly in Xingese, only breaking into that language when she was just that pissed off. Or maybe it was the whiskey. Ugh, whatever.

And then..... it was all gone. Her form hunching over as she just looked sort of bored, drinking straight from the whiskey bottle now. Screw the glass. Who needed it. "....... Alisa Donnikova." She muttered as the bottle thunked against the counter, making a point not to look down to him. What the hell.... why was she telling him her name. Why couldn't she have just hit him. WTF. Pulling out a pack of smokes, she stuck one in her mouth and lit up with her zippo, just plain and silver in it's appearance. Taking a deep breath in, she blew it out without much care for where it went, her one hand with the cig at her mouth, and the other resting on her knee. She was facing him on a diagonal, also partially facing the bar. Well this boded for an interesting day already...

[Spade Aeries]

"LIMP DICKED SON OF A-"

...

Limp...dicked? LIMP!? He was probably hard right now! Possibly. Spade twitched inwardly and in some corner of his mind wanted to jump off a cliff and be impaled by large, jagged rocks. Instead, he gifted her with a crooked smile that entailed great disaster...and probably the bar burning down. But she herself appeared to be struggling with a rather complicated matter. One that most chicks whom he fondled never considered: whether or not to kick his ass. He liked it. He liked it so much that he felt pain searing through his chest before the realization hit his mind. She was like Shirley. Everything else faded out then. He no longer registered the female's sputtered curses and insults, instead he was delving within the dusty memories of his worst nightmares.

They were at a cafe and her hair was done up for once. She smelled of sunlight and large yellow flowers. He remembered that she was wearing red and drinking white wine while smiling at him and talking of their last case. Spade hadn't been wearing his sunglasses then because in those days he never wore them inside. She would always yell at him and say how unclassy it was. She never hinted to anything like a betrayal and why... Why had she wanted him dead? "Sakuya..." he murmured aloud. The way she had said his name always drew his attention away from his work and to her lips. Those soft lips...kissing their corners and watching her smile. She had that smile that transcended all odds and drew him out of the darkest depths of a failed case. When he saw his first murder happen...she held his hand and it all began. Late nights at the bar, walking her home... It was all a lie. Pretty faces on parade, toying with the hearts of men who could only believe. He took a deep breath and realized that the angry chick was talking about her hobbies. Oh, killing people. Lovely. They were so alike. Maybe Shirley dyed her hair and grew boobs. Who knew? Plastic surgery was in. And if it was that bitch, she'd do it. But...she also would have recognized him...and shot him. Again.

"What a coincidence," Spade found himself slurring out in response, "same here! Well, save for the drunken idiots part. I wouldn't typically mess with that crowd; they're a bit...mysterious and unpredictable especially when it was... unintentional." (For once). He grinned and flipped out another cigarette from the pocket of his black leather jacket. He lit it with careful precision (he didn't want to start another fire now) and then took a casual drag of the tangy Lucky Star stick. "I'm am lucky, actually. Thanks for noticin'." She was PISSED. And he was probably about to get smacked...or worse. But he was a bit rusty with dealing with girls like Shirley. And it was the strangest thing: he felt almost...nervous. Thee Spade Aeries, nervous!? Puh!

"WHAT THE FUCK!!!" ruptured his train of thought and brought about a mental: What the fuck? from his own mind. Totally, completely unexpected, have you. "Dude, you speak Xingese? Now that you mention it... you do look half. Is that true?" He was genuinely curious and even went so far as to slide his sunglasses up to the top of his head along with various pieces of stray brown hair to see her better. He studied her with emerald eyes that seemed to determine that he was in fact correct on his assumption. She didn't even look slightly Amestrian; she had to be Xingese and something else. He rose to his feet and re-situated himself onto his stool. "Alisa is a beautiful name. Mine, I got from winning too many card games." All a lie, of course. The real reason no one knew save for his brother; they just assumed that it was because he was so good at cards. That was true, but... Spade was the man that had killed Shirely. ...Spade was him. "Hey, you good at cards?"

[Alisa Donnikova]

What the.... was he grinning at- No.... No she knew that sort of look since she'd held it herself before. Oh well, it wasn't like it mattered now anyways. It was a good thing she hadn't noticed how he had zoned out when she barked at him otherwise she'd probably still be mad now. Instead, she was feeling the alcohol go more and more to her head, taking one last sip for a while. Damn. She probably should have eaten something. She was freakin' starving now that she had thought of that. Fuck.

Raising an eyebrow, Alisa was surprised to hear he did something similar to her. "That so huh?" She muttered, deciding to ignore the unintentional part of that statement. Breathing in on that lovely poison, she could already tell he smoked from the smell, but somehow seeing it made her smirk. Yeah, she was definitely slipping further and further into drunkenness. She scoffed, so he was an uppity bastard. Fuck him. Whatever. Least he wasn't really trying to start shit otherwise she'd really lose her head. And the last thing she needed to do was get in trouble with the authorities here. It would make business a bit harder to conduct.

Now it was her turn for her thoughts to be interrupted, burning the cig too hot which caused her to cough when he suddenly started speaking Xingese. What. The. HELL?! As soon as she stopped coughing, Alisa fully faced him now on her stool practically whirling upon it as her brown eyes bored into him. Wow. Nice eyes too. But that was not the main thing. The main thing.... Ah fucking hell. He obviously was Xingese too. But more than her, maybe full-blooded even. "Small fuckin' world eh? Yeah I'm half. I dare you to guess the other half." She chuckled, at least amused now. Who was this guy? For once someone had piqued her interest. I mean shit, how many people's hobbies are to kill people? 'specially much as I do?

As he resumed his spot on his stool as opposed to the floor, she turned back to face the bar, but her gaze remained upon him as she went through her smoke. Yeah, interesting day alright. Another scoff escaped her lips at the compliment, narrowing her eyes as she looked at her empty glass, debating if she wanted to switch it up. Would it be a good idea to? Probably not. Was she going to anyways? Hellz yeah. Looking to the bartender, she was still listening to Spade, briefly glancing over to him as he talked about his name. "That so? I couldn't guess at all." Her brows furrowed as she felt a little heavier than usual, trying to think of what she wanted to drink next. "My name's from a character in a book who ends up dying. I've yet to see if I'm going to live up to that." A wicked grin rose to her lips, chuckling at the thought. Man she had to be drunk to be spouting this bullshit. Ah well, company was fun sometimes.

The bartender finally came over, holding up her hand for him to wait as her eyes turned to Spade once more. "Hardly play that crap. But I'm decent at it anyways. Oi! Bartender! I'll take a.... ah fuck whats it called..... Oh yeah, a zombie." Noticing the raised eyebrow that her request received, her anger flared up again as she slammed her fist down on the counter causing all and any things upon it to clink a bit. Yeah, she was drawing attention and she could care less. "I fucking stutter you dipshit? Keep fucking looking at me like that, and I'll give you a new hole to shit out of. Got it?!" She snapped, her fingers twitching to grab one of her Cutlasses. There, lazy ass finally moved to make her the goddamn drink, twisting the cap back on the whiskey bottle. That little friend was going to stick with her for another time, for she had no doubts she'd want it later.

[Spade Aeries]

When the stool swung around, Spade knew. She faced him, and he knew. A quirky smile found his lips and he leaned in to get a better look at her for all she was. There were pieces of her, bits of the way her mouth moved--the way her eyes bore down at him that reminded him of Shirley. These thoughts sent real shivers down his spine, signaling to his mind that he would severely regret scrutinizing her in the morning. It brought back memories, and it brought back pain. He wouldn't sleep with her tonight. He made that decision right now. Besides, he was thoroughly convinced that she would be be like her in spirit too. And Shirley refused to the bitter end.

"The other half, huh?" Spade dabbled with the tequila bottle sitting in front of him and then met her eyes once more. An all-knowing smile flitted across his lips, green eyes narrowing into his detective gaze of wonderment. "I'm going to have to say Drachman because you were born in Drachma. You also are used to using some sort of gun, but you aren't in the military. You're either a serial killer, which I doubt, or a mercenary. Hm...maybe I can hire you," he grinned, not daring to hide the fact that he was reading her like the book her name was from. It was his job though if it wasn't obvious from the expensive cologne leaking off his black beater or the clinking dog tags hanging around his neck. "Yeah, it's a small, fucking world," he muttered. Where you can meet anyone's doppelganger and think you're seeing a ghost... She turned back to the bar and Spade laid his head in his arms with a hefty sigh. Maybe life was too much for him anymore.

"Bit obvious, is it? Damn. And I thought I was all cool sayin' it. What a drag." He rubbed his forehead and hoisted himself back up off the bar to his proper height. Spade had drank too much as per usual and this was his second bar (also as per usual). He was caught between regretting it and relishing that he had come here, but hadn't brought himself to a decision just yet. How unnervingly complicated his mind was... The playboy felt the story about her name soak in then and wondered what book her name had come from; he would very much like to read it. "We all live up to death, love," Spade found himself saying absentmindedly. "It's all a matter of what you do while you're living. I'm sure that's why the name was chosen...or that could just be my own speculation..."

Spade jumped when Alisa's fist alighted the granite violently. Jesus Christ, man! He gained control of his racing heart, all too used to bombs going off and bullets being fired at him. Maybe he was getting that weird syndrome or something...where war veterans went crazy and needed to go to the psyche ward and get pills to fix their heads? Nahh... that was bullshit. He was just tipsy and fucked up bec-- Oh shit. He had forgotten about that. The medication and the alcohol...that was probably it. Yeah. He rubbed where the stitches once were and winced outwardly. Ugh. Still hurt. Alisa was fighting with the bartender again. That guy really sucked. He should get Frank to fire his ass. Spade turned his head slowly to look at the girl. She was still PISSED. She really needed to let loose. The alcohol didn't seem to be doing her any good. That sucked.

"Hey," Spade interrupted her bout of anger, "I haven't had dinner yet. Would you like to join me by chance? Free food." He smiled genuinely and glanced at the bartender making the drink she had just ordered. "After you finish that, of course."

[Alisa Donnikova]

Alisa blinked and felt her eyebrow twitch, realizing once again just how much she had been drinking. And she hated looking like the fool. HATED it. As Spade continued to guess, her face darkened a bit as the brightness faded from her eyes slightly. A serial killer.... It was as if a darkness had swept over within her, zoning out as memories were called up. Voices arguing, the feathers of a ripped pillow blowing past her face as those words had burst from her mothers mouth. "She's going to turn into a killer if you keep teaching her all of this! She doesn't......" The voices faded, and she was back in the bar, blinking as she sat up a bit more, the corner of her mouth twitching as she realized that Spade was speaking of the obviousness of his statement. The shadow had faded again for the moment, breathing in deeply on her cig. The smoke just drifted from her nostrils in slow tendrils before she blew it all out, staring down at that empty glass again.

"Right on all counts." She muttered, recalling what he had been saying before, practically stabbing the dead cig into the ashtray as she pulled out another and lit it up. Fuck. "Go right fucking ahead. I'm always looking for work." She added before falling quiet as he had begun to speak again. Huh. Well well, she felt like she had heard that before and every time she had no fucking clue what to think of it. Grimacing, she looked to the whiskey bottle and debated if she wanted to really open it again and just dive deeper and deeper into that drunken pit. But it was just so damn welcoming now wasn't it? God she hated thinking about that shit.... But he clearly had had something, or many things if she was any judge, happen to him. "Maybe. Maybe he was just being fucking ironic. All I know is he taught me one goddamn fact in life. Survival." Her voice had grown rather low and soft as she spoke, the gravely nature of it coming out slightly more.

Sighing heavily, she suddenly felt drained and all confused again. Sometimes she forgot what it was like to just sort of be... normal. Just meet and talk with someone at the bar. Especially someone she'd almost punted to Xing. Someone who held similar hobbies. Someone..... She found herself just letting that cig sit in her mouth, puffing on it as she glanced over to Spade having just realized that she had startled him by her outburst. Her anger had dissipated once again, more just adding to the frustration twisting inside of her right now. Fuck she hated thinking about shit this much!!

Again, her fury was interrupted, turning with a glare before it relaxed to more of a piercing look. What did he-- Her eyes widened and she grinned, the palm of her hand hitting the bar though not nearly as hard as before. It was more like a slap of excitement. "Fuck yeah! Oh that? Hold on-" She turned back right as the bartender handed her her drink, but not before she had seen his smile. Damn.... what the fuck. He had a fucking nice smile too. Wonder how many girls have swooned to that. She mused to herself, picking up the glass with a mean smirk. And she proceeded to down the contents of it, gulping down that delicious weakness as her mind, and emotions, swirled.

A moment or so later, the glass came down upon the bar counter, taking a moment for the room to right itself before grinning. "Alright, les get outta here." Her speech was certainly slurred now as more of her drachman accent began to shine through, her cig hanging at an angle from between her lips as she added some money to the pile, a hand grabbing the whiskey bottle. Now, she couldn't forget that!! Lord, it'd be a miracle if she remembered the night. Pushing herself up, she stumbled a little but righted herself quickly, turning to face Spade. Huh, funny how all those problematic thinking things just sorta vanished... Good fucking riddance.

[Spade Aeries]

Spade observed the drinking of the...zombie--whatever the hell that shit was--and smirked. "Fuck yeah!" repeated over and over in his head as the smirk re-transformed back into a smile he didn't even know he was wearing. She could hold her liquor, that one. She wasn't like most gals and certainly not Shirley. She would be on the goddamned floor puking and passing out if she had that much. Actually...a lot of girls would be. He had to had it to Alisa, man, she had it in her...literally. Spade watched the empty glass land down on the table and whistled for effect. "That's some talent ya got there. You'd make most men proud." He winked and then realized that he was flirting with her. Maybe it was the damn tequila loosening his tongue and drawing out his true colors, but... sleeping with her wasn't looking so dim anymore. No, Aeries, RESIST YOU FOOL!! You know that you'll regret it in the morning if you do! The haunting memories...will resurface again... Spade clenched his left hand into a fist and took a deep breath, feeling the alcohol settle in his stomach. Shut up. Conscience could go fuck itself for all he was concerned. He'd do whatever he damn well pleased! But Spade couldn't quite get the resemblance out of his mind and already knew that regardless of what happened, he wouldn't ever treat her like all the one night stands... This was different and that was all he knew.

Too much thinking!

Spade grinned like an idiot. "Hey Alisa, would you mind giving me some of your whiskey?" If she drank the rest of that shit, they'd end up having to pump her stomach at Central hospital, and even worse...she might not remember him! The horror!! He would avoid that at all costs; he would pr-- Spade blinked. ...what. He felt odd suddenly and quickly looked away from her soaring brown depths and to the wall. Ah, what a beautiful wall it was so-- "Alright, les get outta here." Oh right. Spade turned back around and showered her in his crooked, trademark, lady-killer smile. This time it reached his eyes. Real. And this threw Spade off--it threw him way off his usual. No longer was he much of the aloof, non-caring idiot playboy; he was now the nervous, caring, idiot sweet talker. What the HELL!? The sky was falling. He. Was. Not. Nervous. Dammit.

"I hope Xingese food meets your desire tonight," Spade cooed with a sly look and then pulled away, holding out his arm to her. He was a true gentleman (especially when drunk) and wouldn't allow a lady he was taking to dinner out the door without a worthy escort: himself. And back out the glass doors they left...together. It was a short streetlight and moonlit walk down the block to the Xingese restaurant that Spade was thinking of. Now this place was done up. The door handles were gold and there were two men who opened the doors to allow them inside. "I feel like I should have worn a suit or something..." he muttered without thinking and walked inside. The cool air of the air conditioning hit him in the face with a welcoming slap and he relished in it for a moment. Unlike the bar, this place didn't smell of body odors, old men, cigarettes, or booze; it smelled of flowers and damn good food. He grinned. "Two please."

[Alisa Donnikova]

It was strange.... she really did feel normal. And it scared her. It actually scared her. No. No, this was dangerous. This could threaten her survival. But.... she didn't care. She was having fun without having to spill blood. Or maybe it was all the drink. Yes, that had to be it. Alisa's eyes turned to Spade, observing that he continued to hold a smile. Dammit why did it have to be such a nice smile?! Fuck. She smirked and scoffed, her hands coming to rest on her hips. "Why thank ye Mr. Aeries. Tis a pride of mine." Wow the room was really bendy.... She swooned slightly before righting herself once more, the smile rather goofy for her at that wink. Woah, fucking stop the phone. What the fuck was going on?! He was definitely flirting with her!! And..... and she didn't mind it.... Her fathers mind echoed in her ears, her eyes zoning out just past Spade's shoulder. "Never get close to anyone my little warrior. They could cause you to hesitate, slow down, increase the risk and chances of your death. Don't get involved unless you know they can handle themselves. But even then I don't recommend it. Be careful my darling."

She exhaled slowly, coming back into the world, her mind swirling with the mixed liquors and the sheer amount of alcohol in her system. Right, careful. God she was far too drunk to be aware of these goddamn social situation. Her gaze focused on him, finding an actual smile coming to her lips. It wasn't wicked, it wasn't cruel, it didn't hold some twisted sense of humor in it. It was... just a smile. Dammit she had to be more careful! "Mmm.... just don drink it all, mmk?" She spoke as she held the bottle out to him, the smile finally twisting into her normal smirk. So much better. The smile was so.... alien. She wasn't sure that she had actually smiled since... The smirk faded as she glanced out of the window. ...Since her family.

STOP IT. NOW. She had to stop this. All of it, none of it. The thinking. Yes, yes the thinking was the problem. More... she had to drown more... No, she'd drown in it.

As he reacted to her saying for them to leave, she smirked and nodded, noting how he was reacting just like her. It was.... strange. This was a dangerous game, but she lived with danger constantly. Time to see where this headed. The prospect of Xingese food caused her to brighten, licking her lips to those thoughts, briefly seeming confused at his offered arm. What did he.... Oh. Right. There were things that people did. She took his arm awkwardly, clearly having never done this before. What the fuck. Interesting day her ass, this was just ridiculous. Yet not unpleasant. "Fucking love the stuff. I'm always up for it." She nodded as if to confirm the statement, following him out the door.

The night air greeted the pair, Alisa walking rather goofily with her legs kicking up higher than normal and her free arm swinging at her side. It only lasted a little while, the slight chill cool against the flush of her cheeks. God this was so fucking strange. What the fuck was she doing? Free food, free food.... free fucking food. That was all she wanted. Right? Right. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she looked up, her eyebrows raising at the grandiose of the place, leaning back slightly more than she meant to. It was good that Spade had her arm or she may have gone a bit too far and toppled over. "Fucking ey.... Y'know some fancy places Sir Spade." She murmured, closing her eyes for a moment longer than she meant to as the a/c greeted them. If this were an anime, she would have had the swirly eyes at the change in atmosphere, her skin rippling a bit.

Seriously, this was fucking alien as all hell. She didn't go to nice places, she didn't meet a kindred spirit (of some sort), and she certainly didn't fucking walk arm in arm with anyone like this. Not even people she had known for far longer than him. Her eyes glanced around, and she remembered why she didn't really go into society. She didn't quite... fit. Not even the alcohol could hide that. Fuck. She did her damndest to not show it, because if there was one thing that she hated the most was showing weakness. "Damn Aeries, place looks'pensive. Love it." She muttered, turning her gaze to look up to him, an impressed smirk on her lips. She hadn't been somewhere like this in a really long time. Too long. Time to enjoy! And just try to ignore the rest.

[Spade Aeries]

Spade spent an entirely too long time trying to decipher whether or not that was sarcasm. "Damn Aeries, place looks'pensive. Love it." Does that look like sarcasm to you? He wasn't sure. So he stared at her for a brief moment, trying to gauge how she felt. Yeah sure as hell is was fucking expensive! But... was that a good thing...or was that a bad thing!? His jade eyes narrowed in incessant concentration, and he popped off the lid of the whiskey bottle. Taking a swing, he lowered it slowly. "Yes, yes I do. My brother he's actually--" Was it worth it? Was it worth telling her and having her not believe him and think he was a flirtatious fool? Well, he was, but still... UGH. Fuck you life. You and your complications and other annoying shit. Couldn't things just be simple? It normally was. Step one: woo a girl. Step two: get her in bed. The end. This...this. Spade didn't know what this was and it was the weirdest shit ever. Life, what is this?! And he thought that things were all fine and dandy going to work, going to war--fighting for his country and all that. But noooo, of course not. He was Spade fucking Aeries who was typically fucked by best friends falling off of the top of feris wheels and--and...!

"My I take your orders? Are you ready?" She tapped her foot, revealing way too much non-clevage. God, girl, if you wanted to flash, grow some first! She looked fourteen. Then again Ace looked like he was born yesterday, so Spade figured the whole aging thing happened to the Xingese when they were pretty damn close to hitting thirty. Like he was..... THIRTY!? Ahhh....he really needed to sto-- No. He was def going out of character. Spade Aeries stopped at NOTHING. "Uhm...?" Oh right.

Spade ordered and took special note of what Alisa ordered. And soon enough their food arrived. Fun, drunken conversations ensued, and Spade managed to drink the rest of her whiskey without her noticing. He couldn't have her throwing up in the bathroom...or forgetting...him. But...in some deep place in his mind, he almost wished that she would forget him. Him and all his problems. The war-torn runaway train that was going to die from lung cancer if he didn't die from liver failure first...or a bullet...or alchemy...or-- Their food arrived. They ate it. It was good food. But to Spade, it was just food with a prettier price tag. It was a price tag that women loved when he took them out. He thought Alisa would be no different. There were somethings that all females had in common after all. Spade was proud to be aware of them. And...take advantage of them when the time came. But...Spade's favorite places were cheap. The best food came from people who worked hard to make it--who were scrapping by and only wanted to see the happy faces of their customers. Those kinds of people were Spade's kind of people. This fancy shit...not his thing. Neither of them looked the part and the Brigadier General was loving every moment in which the stares fell on them. Yep. This was him. Him and his life. Welcome to the autobiography of a certain playboy.

And the dinner was finished. Spade lost a great weight from his bank account and didn't care. Money was nothing. Alisa was intriguing. And the empty whiskey bottle on the perfectly white table cloth was smiling awkwardly at him. Sweet. He stumbled like a babbling idiot out the doors, forgetting his wallet until a kindly waiter brought it for him. He stopped in front of a streetlight, not knowing where to go next, nor what to do. But the brunette decided that he would finish his sentence regardless. "My brother's the emperor of Xing and I'm the Head of Central HQ. But I don't care. I could die tomorrow. Come to my apartment."

[Alisa Donnikova]

Eyes.... Why could she feel so many EYES?!?!! Alisa's eyebrow twitched as she did her best to ignore it for now, though it didn't help that she realized Spade was amongst them. Why the fuck did he look so puzzled? "What? I fuckin stutter or somethin'?" The statement was harsh, but that was just how she was. If people couldn't handle it, they could piss off. Meh, if he could put up with her shit so far, she guessed he must not mind it too much. Wait, why did she care? Leaning back in her chair, she suddenly was physically relaxed, but within.... Everything kept tensing up. Her brown eyes met his as he spoke, raising an eyebrow as he didn't finish his statement. His brother was.... what? A fish? A scholar? What? She didn't press him for the information, for now absorbing the fact he had a brother. So he had siblings.... Always good to know. Right? Wait, no. Knowing more about a person was bad. In this instance it was bad! No wait.... how exactly did it.... "Don't get close to anyone."

Tension. Again. She wanted to know because she was curious about him. This man before her who clearly was similar to her in more ways than one. Similar to the point where she felt... connection. No no nononono... this was breaking the rules!!! Lone wolf, thats what she was. Never settle, never get close. Getting close meant weakness. Weakness meant it could be exploited. Meant she could be killed. Survival... survival was threatened. But... But why did this have to be so fucking nice?! She was snapped out of her thoughts as a woman walked up from behind her, sitting up straighter as she had almost reached for one of her pistols, her hand stopping as it had begun to reach over her chest. Exhale. Relax. You're in fucking society. Raising her gaze to the young girl before them, she appeared pretty non-plus, and ordered what she wanted without much of a care. Her voice may have sounded bored, but it was merely because she was such a fucking knot inside.

Jook, shumai, chasu-bao.... God, when was the last time she had eaten anything like this? Thankfully she wasn't allowed to dwell upon it as soon enough they began to talk. Just... talk. Laugh. Be like any other normal person of society. Without that sense of survival in her. "She'll never be normal if you keep teaching her this- this... shit!" ..... Fuck. She was being normal. This was a fucking date. This wasn't just two people eating and talking. There was a fucking connection. FUCK. The string of curses that ran through her mind didn't translate to her outward appearance. It was like there was two of her, the her that was laughing at what Spade had just said. And then the her that wanted to take back her whiskey and get lost in that pit of drunkness so she wouldn't remember. Wouldn't know about the possibility of weakness. Alisa blinked as their food arrived, a giant grin forming on her lips. Ohhhh yes.... that was fucking delicious. And yet.... she was angry at it. The pretty positioning of the food on the plate, the smooth napkin in her lap, the well-dressed patrons that walked past. It was so... fake. So goddamn pompous. She could see how those high-class bastards looked at her with that hint of disgust in their eyes. Yeah? YEA?! SHE HAD A FUCKING RIGHT TO BE THERE TOO! God, she just wanted to get up and just, just.... AAAAAAARGGGH!!!

Her right hand suddenly clenched into a fist so hard that it shook, the smirk fading from her face as her head lowered slightly. Yet her eyes didn't. They had narrowed as her eyebrows furrowed, glaring at those that DARED to stare at her. Yea fucking stare at the monster that could rip you to fucking shreds. She had to force herself to take a really deep breath and exhale it slowly. She hadn't even noticed that the bill was being paid. She was just picturing ripping the eyes from their sockets and feeding them to those bastards for their dinner. "Don't show them you are affected." Right, wtf. Duh. And as quickly as that murderous stare had appeared, it was gone, her hand relaxing as she placed her napkin on the table. Right... she was drunk and just ate excellent food with excellent company... Fuck the rest, why the fuck was she giving a damn anyways?

She wasn't much better than him getting to the door, but she certainly wasn't stumbling as much, chuckling as the waiter brought back his wallet. Haha, what an idiot. Yet an endearing idiot.... He was a charmer of women, and she knew it. Pulling out a cigarette as her chuckles faded into the night, she had just lit it up as he stopped in the light of a lamp. Her footsteps then followed his, standing on the edge of it as she breathed in that deadly smoke. "Thanks for--" She stopped as she blew out, listening as he suddenly spoke. Brother? Why was he-- And then her eyes widened. Really, REALLY wide. Wait... wait wait wait... Oh fuck. THAT was why his name had been familiar...... Oh fucking hell... She stood there for a moment, her cig hanging from her mouth, staring at him in a sort of shell shock. Relative to royalty, head of goddamn Central, and... and.......her features then did something she completely didn't expect. They relaxed. Her whole body relaxed. That tension was just..... gone. Sure, she could hear her fathers voice echoing in her head, but so was Spade's. "But I don't care. I could die tomorrow. Come to my apartment."

And so Alisa took a couple of steps up to him, now about a foot away as her brown eyes that held such a turmoil of everything and nothing, looked up to him and into his eyes. Lowering the cig from her mouth, she bowed her head towards the ground as she watched her foot stomp out the cancer stick before raising her gaze to meet his once more. "Sure. Lead the way Spade."

[Spade Aeries]

"Sure. Lead the way Spade" was not what he was expecting to hear. In fact, he was waiting for the customary slap that came with surprising beautiful women. All he saw there reflected in those soft brown eyes was himself. His breath hitched in his lungs and the sidewalk swooned onto its side. A pleasant surprise, but one to be feared. He felt as if his life was changing in the course of a single night: he no longer felt the need to suck up all the cigs in his pack or throw up in the toilet until nothing was left. Tonight...had been like any other night with one of his pick-ups, but... this wasn't a pick-up. Alisa was... she was someone he had decided not to sleep with--she was someone he wanted to sleep with more than the normal pick-up. It was hard...so hard. Her lips slightly parted, her eyes seeing him and not looking beyond at the money, the fame, or the glory. It wasn't fake...for once this was the real deal, and Spade wasn't sure if he could handle something like that anymore. Not after...her. And yet... He brushed a cold hand over the surface of his tattoo and sighed, looking up into the night sky. It was so long ago...

So long past love. And all the pain it brought him. He wanted to tell her--to spill his heart onto the concrete and tape it back together. Never...had he told anyone. Never...had he ever wanted to until this moment. But did he even need to? What was she thinking? Maybe she knew he was the one night stand kind of guy and just expected it all this time? Or..did she feel the same way? This indescribably pulling feeling that drew chains around his chest and made his body feel hot when they weren't even touching. Touching...her parted lips. Spade took a step and then another until he was in front of her. Taking her cheeks into his rough hands, he tilted his head to the side and pressed his lips carefully against hers. He felt her tongue enter him and explore his mouth as his own did the same, learning of a wet, dark land. His hands drifted from her face and into her hair that he felt like he had been waiting the entire evening to touch. The feel of it in itself sent waves of pleasure currenting through his entire body. And then he felt her give in and deepen the kiss, running over teeth and to his throat. "Mmph," he moaned, trying to mask how much he wanted to take her right there. And he pulled her closer--chest to chest--rocking his abdomen lightly into her's. And then he let the kiss wear off, stepping away a bit winded.

What was that?

Spade had never moaned from a kiss alone in his entire life. He had never felt the need to hold someone's hand and never let go... Not even--not even with Shirley. He didn't know how to react let alone think, and found himself staring listlessly at the moon as if she would tell him the great secrets of the universe. Just go--just go and take her with you. Spade slid his thick hands into her slender ones and shot her a look that explained he had never done this. One night stands hung off your arm...they didn't hold fucking hands. It was girly...and romantic...something Spade had never encompassed until now. He didn't even understand why...why he was doing it or why he even wanted to. His head was a mess and the pressure growing in his pants was yelling at him that this time it was different. It was so different Spade wasn't even sure if he should still go back on his previous declaration of not sleeping with her. And he was right...right all along that this was a mistake. It was pain waiting to happen. Pain all over again. But it felt like it was pain he was willing to risk just so he could kiss her again...and again. He wanted to hold her and witness something out of her mouth that wasn't a string of drunken curses. She was strong and she was a fucking good kisser. What more could he ask for in a woman? Most of them were shallow pricks that only knew how to pole dance. She was so like Shirley and so different...like all the bad was drained away and what was left was Alisa.

He pried his emerald eyes away from the moonlight that shone through them and took her with him to the train station. They hopped the first steamer and headed straight to the brigadier general's station. Spade let go to reach for his keys after a block of streetlit walking. He yanked them out with an empty box of smokes and kicked open the door. What awaited could only be described as a horrid mess of man laziness. Clothes lay strewn about, a pair of jeans hung from the fan, empty bottles of beer collected dust in the corner, dishes piled high in the sink covered with last week's meals... Spade's beside table's drawer lay open, filled high with the contents of condom boxes. All different kinds they were: studded, twisted, spermicide, ultrathin, and the list went on. His sheets were on the floor inside of on the bed. His dresser drawers were also all open with unfolded clothes peeking out and smelling of too much laundry detergent. Spade grimaced, realizing that most chicks he brought back were just to fuck and not to look at. Alisa... was probably going to smack him now. Yeah, he lived in this. There was no time to really clean it up...and no point really...except for moments like these, which...didn't happen. He stepped over the rug, dodging stains of all sorts of beverages until he made it to the small kitchen that was relatively untouched save for the dishes. Spade didn't cook. Too lazy. He frowned. Oh god what the hell should he say?

"It's a mess...but this is where I live." He laughed nervously and twirled a wave of brown hair. Hopefully she wouldn't have to go to the bathroom... Beard hairs in the sink. And he missed the toilet a lot when he was drunk. He always cleaned it when he threw up though...at least. He hadn't taken out the trash in a good while too, but luckily the air fresheners were doing their damn good job. He could sigh a relief to that shit. He glanced over to his kitchen table that was also covered in...shit. Paperwork, files, receipts, and ninety-seven-million watches filled with steel wire lay abandoned there in no sort of order at all. Oh and there's his cellphone he forgot to take with him. He opened the refrigerator to reveal cases upon cases of beer and other liquors that would go bad in a month, but would be finished before then. "Do you want something to drink? I have...uh cranberry juice, milk, orange juice...water?" He smirked his quirky smile and drew nearer to her. "Or I can offer you different kinds of juices?"

[Alisa Donnikova]

God... She had really said that hadn't she? Alisa could see a path that split into two in her mind, one had her father standing upon it, and the other had Spade as its guardian. She stood there before the two of them, there at those crossroads because thats exactly what this was. Exactly what the fuck this was. "Don't do this my soldier. Just have your fun for the night and go. You grow attached, you grow dumb. You risk dying. Think of Daywatch. Think of what happened. I know you read it. Remember-" Fuck it. She turned away from her father and to Spade, knowing full well that she was choosing this path. She had to see where it was going now. There was no survivalist after this, not in the same sense as she had been before this night. The man before her had done something to her, changed her in some way that she didn't even know existed. Awoken... something. And she didn't know if she liked it or not yet. All she did know is that it was pleasant for now, and that some part of her craved it.

And so she looked up to him, watched as he closed that gap between them. No matter what was going to happen in the long run, tonight was its own contained gem. This she knew. Before she had never cared if the other person had feelings for her or not, what good were feelings when they could do just that. Hurt you. Hell, they could get you dead! Weakness. Pure and simple. But now it was her on that end. What the fuck.... And she wanted it to happen. She was welcoming this weakness as if it were the contents of a whiskey bottle. She could see it in his eyes, he had been hurt before. He had known this weakness and felt its sting. Why... Why was there such a kinship?! Fuck this was like in Daywatch.... And she knew how that tale ended. His hands caused the needle to come out of her thoughts like a record, silencing the chatter as he leaned in and his lips met hers. Hesitancy. On both parts. Normally she just pulled someone in and kissed them with the fierce roughness that was her. But.... fuck. Not here. Not with this. The wolf was still. It was so natural, the way their tongues slid along each other, testing the strange waters that was this.... relationship. His hands sliding against her skin and into her hair sent a shiver down her spine and throughout her body, her own immediately pressing into his stomach before crawling up his chest. God she just wanted to rip his fucking shirt of right then and there. She deepened that kiss as an ache called, summoning that weakness he had awoken within her. Their bodies pressed together, a hum forming in her throat as her fingers dug slightly into his chest and slid down, resisting the urge to claw at the bottom of his shirt again. Then it was down.

Fuck.

Alisa's eyes shot open the moment he had pulled back, her hands already at her sides as she exhaled very slowly. A look of utter fear and... lostness crossed her eyes before vanishing into the night. Jesus.... Again she could see those crossroads in her mind, and her father was still standing on the other path but she knew... She couldn't go back. She understood that now. She could see that his face was pained as he turned away from her and walked back down that path, leaving just her and Spade. Crossroads.... Now it was just a path. She had to follow it. Her eyes lowered to the ground as she heard his moan and her hum echo in her ears, glancing to her hands as she thought of how badly she had wanted to.... Oh fuck. Taking another deep breath, she turned her head and met his gaze as she felt his rough hand slide into her own, straightening up slightly. He was just as lost as she. Maybe more, she didn't know. Jesus fuck this was like a fucking movie. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. And she had no words to say, not even a smartass comment. The fact she was aroused didn't help in the least bit with the storm that raged within her body. Fuck this connection, fuck what it was doing to her. Fuck this night. She was scared. Fucking scared!! Her! She didn't know anything about this shit! What the fuck was she supposed to do now?! Keep doing your thing. You're thinking too goddamn much. Shit, she was.

She squeezed his hand a little as she focused on the cool night air, and not the ache in her body. And so they walked to the train like that. Hand in hand like some goddamn romantic comedy. But it was nice. She couldn't deny that. It all just blurred together as the alcohol swirled and blended with that arousal making it all the worse. She'd never been this lit up before! Shit. Blinking, they were suddenly in front of his door, knowing they had walked from his stop to there but... God dammit she was fucking lost. She had to just follow his lead. No, hold on that was bullshit. She didn't have to follow anyones lead. Forge ahead you fucking wussie. You seriously gonna let this fucking phase you?! No she wasn't. As he kicked the door in, she was greeted by the distinct scent of air fresheners and.... Huh. Some of her safe houses were like this. Not nearly as messy or cluttered. Stepping into the door, she closed it behind her and looked all around. Yep, a guy lived her. She was hardly surprised or really bothered by it. Her places usually had a couple of clothes lying about, beer cans (it was cheap alright? Much as she hated that crap),various bottles of alcohol, and food. Meh. Carefully stepping around some of the mess, Alisa's examining of his home stopped at the drawer full of condoms, a smirk rising to her lips. Hah! Called it. Least a playboy was prepared which was fine by her. Bareback was still nice though. But kids weren't. Ugh. Turning her brown eyes away, she just sorta sighed and pulled her hair out of its ponytail, the dark tresses hanging down her back. Scratching the back of her head, she stuffed her hands in her pockets, the quiet reminding her just how alien this was to her. Why the hell couldn't she just be normal about this?!

Oh thank god he said something. She had to resist the urge to laugh at the nervousness that clung to them both, but especially him right now. "You're a guy Spade. Most guy's places are a mess." She smirked with a small snicker. Ok, so she couldn't hold all of that laugh down. It was cute--OH HOLD THE FUCK ON. Cute?! CUTE?! FUCK NO. Looking away from him, she turned her head away and instead focused on.. on.. Clothes, yea. What did he wear.... Hardly a surprise she had to admit. God, what the fuck had he done to her? Hearing the refrigerator open, she slowly turned back towards him, her expression rather hard to read much less describe. Calm.. She could do that. Raising an eyebrow, she leaned a little bit to look in to see what he had. Her lip curled slightly at the sight of all that beer, so she instead focused on the other tasty thing in front of--NO. --The tasty things inside the fridge. Fuck maybe she did need a drink. Pursing her lips in a thoughtful manner, she looked up to him and blinked at the lewd hint he made. Ohhhh it was on. Her signature, wicked grin rose to her lips as the alcohol smoothed out that damned storm within her.

Stepping up close to him, their bodies were a hairs breath apart, one hand's fingers walking up his chest. "Hmmm..." She appeared rather thoughtful as her left hand suddenly gripped his crotch, her right hand at his chest grabbing his dog tags as she leaned close to his ear and licked her lips. Her breath was hot upon his skin, the fingers of her left hand applying slight pressure as she rubbed the promise hidden beneath those clothes. Mmm delicious..... "That answer your question?" She murmured, her hands removing themselves from him as she pulled back as quick as a snake might strike, an eyebrow raised as her eyes met his, daring him to make a move. Fuck she was goddamn lit up! Sure it was different from normal, but fuck if she cared.

[Spade Aeries]

Anticipation grew when he saw her approach his spot in front of the refrigerator. He had nearly forgotten the physical effects she had on him until he could smell her scent again over the blasted air fresheners. His skin crawled and her reply came as soothing as the scales of a viper. "That answer your question?" He breathed out, feeling too well the touch of her hand through his leather pants, and it ached... Metal beads dug into the back of his neck as his dog tags were pulled, jingling wildly...as wild as Spade wanted to be. And she stepped away as if it took all of her strength to stop--as if it wasn't meant to be stopped. He read her then and saw it. This was a trial in both their lives. This wasn't just sex--just a one night stand or some shit. Neither of them knew what it was. And it was all the more exciting...and all the more fearful. But Spade laughed that in the face. Nothing held him back. Especially from what he actually wanted...wanted not needed.

He pulled the black beater over his head, for his coat had already been discarded with his thoughts. His bare chest was revealed, covered in tiny scars and a giant one on his back still laced with phantom stitches. He ran his hands over his own skin and felt the grooves of scar tissue down to the button of his pants. It was a bit more difficult to slip out of those, but he did once he took his boots off. And what was left was a pair of silk boxers covered with ♠'s and mismatching socks--one white, one navy blue. He grinned down at them and yanked 'em off with his feet while his hands gravitated towards Alisa. "It does," he murmured whilst his fingertips slipped up under her shirt and pulled it off. Teasingly, his hands ghosted over her skin until coming to expertly remove the clasp of her bra and let it fall to the floor to free her. And then and only then did he take them into his hands. He brushed his lips against them and then kissed the edges of her mouth before bringing them back and lathering her nipples with his tongue to distract her as his hands caressed her tight stomach, over her hips, and to her pants. The zipper was hard, but he managed without letting his eyes leave hers. And slowly, he drew them down and lead her to the bed, walking backwards, their clothes--their shells--their secrets all cast away in a pile of worn clothes.

He pushed her onto the sheetless bed with only a mattress cover and hovered over her on all fours. A serious look was plastered into the green of his eyes as he studied every move he made with practiced precision. He settled down halfway on her and half holding his own weight up as his hand made its way to the elastic of her panties. Spade's lips mashed against her's and their mouths opened, panting into each other and more ready then they'll ever be. His fingers ran over smooth skin of every man's favorite organ. Touching, rubbing--back and forth his calluses clashed until they went inside. He felt her tense and her muscles twitch, but he forced his tongue deeper into her mouth, feeling himself throb in need--in want. He almost moaned himself in the waves of pleasure wafting off of her. He drew back his hand wet and broke the kiss to lick it dry. The boxers and the panties went off and landed somewhere near the front door. A careless hand flailed out to the drawer where it grabbed the first thing available: twisted. He didn't bother to ask because he knew from his experience that at this point, nothing mattered but the act. In quick, skilled movements he was ready and moved over top of her, touching her breasts, pressing his chest and stomach against hers until just the pressure made him let out soft wisps of noises. He shut his eyes and was no longer anywhere but in Alisa's embrace. "Are you ready?" Spade asked simply for the building of the climax...literally.

[Alisa Donnikova]

Thats right boy... You had started this dance, now prove yourself to live up to your words. Your actions... Alisa didn't doubt his sexual prowess considering his entire drawer full of condoms, that she knew for sure. Fuck he was making her so goddamn hot. She couldn't stand it. She wanted to go right back up to him and pull him over to the bed, but no... build up that tension. Yeah... made everything better. Pulling off her biker gloves, the transmutation on the palms briefly grew before they fell to the floor, stepping on the heel of her boots to pull them off. She backed up so she was closer towards the center of the room, sliding her guns holsters from her shoulder to place those down carefully on the floor near her gloves. She lost those, she'd be out of business and pissed like no one had seen before. Shit would get real. And just because Spade was making her feel like she never had before didn't mean that she couldn't think. She wasn't that far gone goddammit. She just.... really wanted him.

Her eyes slid down his body as a smirk grew upon her lips, lifting up one of her feet to pull her socks off and then the other. Scars..... The fact that they were there hardly surprised her. If anything, they almost excited her! It meant a person had been through fights and lived, that they weren't some prissy bitch who didn't know the pain of a goddamn stab wound. Licking her lips in anticipation, she knew she was wet. Running a hand through her hair, it was a sort of strange sensation since she always had her gloves on. Always. It was an undisputed fact. She wasn't sure if it was because she was still drunk or what, but the fact his socks were mismatched (and the pattern of his boxers) just really amused her. She laughed almost devlishly at this amusement as she fell still upon his reaching hands. She bit her lower lip and exhaled a shuddering breath, pulling off her shirt as he unclasped her bra. Forgot she had worn one for once that day.... A few scars of her own were scattered across her skin, some clearly from bullets, others from knives. Her blood pumped and roiled about within her veins at that joy of his touch, his licks.... A moan of complete pleasure passed her lips as the wetness within her pants grew. God her tits were so sensitive. "Mmfffuck." She muttered, not even realizing she had slipped into Drachman, her eyes resisting rolling back into her head to hold his gaze. Jesus fuck he had such control right now. It wasn't until they were on the bed that it really hit her that he had complete control. A playboy in his natural element. And she was being fucking compliant. She demanded an explanation for this bullshit---- Air against wet nipples meant another shudder ran through her body.

The push made that wicked smirk return, loving the fact that he was as rough as she could be and yet... There was something else. It was wild, yet contained. Rough, yet soft.... Wtf. AND she wasn't minding how he was staring. She hated being stared at. Even during sex. She.... She actually liked it when he looked over her even if it was just to ensure the precision of his actions. Alisa roughly kissed him back, her tongue almost seeming to attack his as she felt that ache scream out within her. Two beings, two kindred spirits met on one night, drank together, and.... Fuck this really was what people called fate. Oh-Oh shit.... Her eyes rolled back as his fingers slid about that place.... Her moans were almost guttural as her legs spread for that fucking pleasure. A hand clawed at the mattress as the other grasped at his shoulder, her fingers digging in the moment his fingers probed onward. "Aw fuck~" She whispered into their kiss, her moans muffled as their tongues intertwined as their bodies were shortly. She growled when he drew back his hand, her eyes opening to observe Spade licking his drenched fingers. Fuck, why did that turn her on more?! How could she be more fucking turned on by that?!?!!

Her head was swimming with such multitudes of.... of... everything, the usual awkward moment of grabbing and putting on the condom didn't even seem to happen, just the burn. Goddamn that burn..... Now, NOW. It had to happen. The moan that escaped her once he touched her breasts was one of pure animal need. They both wanted this, longed for it.... Her eyes slowly slid open as a mischievous smile rose to her lips, touching her cheek to his as she licked her lips once more. Fuck yes..." It was practically a whisper as she couldn't focus on anything but them. Words... what were they anyways? And suddenly, she rolled them over, pushing him down so she was now above him. Oh that smile had such a glint to it as she pushed his pulsating member into her--- Ooohhhh..... Ohhh fucking hell.... Her muscles gripped at his shaft as she slid along his length, her hands pressing into the mattress right next to his shoulders. She couldn't start out at a slower pace, there was just no way. Jesus fuck he felt fucking good..... Now her moans were just plain loud, feeling that utter ecstasy. Yes, it was different than another lay before this, and goddamn was it good.

[Spade Aeries]

Spade's body met damp sheets as he allowed her to push him over and climb on top--his secret fantasy. None had ever done so before without his suggestion and the power she exhibited made his member twitch with anticipation. Never before had he felt so needy--so intensely turned on by the mere action of her moving on top. It would be deep. The passionate position where eyes met eyes and the reach was so far. Becoming one was never an issue to the Spade Aeries. It happened. They did each other--satisfied themselves. The end. He didn't care for any particular position because he had done them all. Multiple times. Spade had spewed himself into just about every hole on the female body at least once. But never a man. Never a man. Thank god. He was never that fucked up. Ever. EVER. Spade ignored the inward shudder, thinking about how different this entire night was from the blur of all the others. This was more like becoming one than anything before.

His entire body shuddered, air releasing from his lungs in hitches of pleasure-stained breath. His hands ventured over her revealed body, mostly caressing her breasts in slow, circular motions. He knew the buttons to push and the areas to molest in order to excite moans from her parted lips. It were those lips that started this. And when he entered her, he felt the world tighten. His entire body quivered as waves of ecstasy flooded his senses. Nothing else mattered. Spade was gone. He pulled out and thrust into her again and again in time with her rocking until he lost count. There was no easing into it--no slow start or waiting time to adjust. They were racehorses and the gun was shot! Instead of hooves beating ground, she moaned. And Spade felt fire spread through his veins every time he heard it. "Fuck, Alisa..." he breathed, barely getting the strained words out without moaning himself. That's right Spadey, you're fucking Alisa; no need to say it out loud for god's sake! Uhhh... he just barely could think. And how many times had he done this?! Spade could file his nails while fucking a girl! But...not while fucking Alisa... What...what was wrong with him!?

It lasted some time. Almost more time than usual. It was because it felt too good--it felt too good to cum. Fuckinggoddessesinheaven she was magnificent beyond measure. He didn't understand--couldn't comprehend why or how she was so much more than anything he had ever had. And Spade felt that now he had bit, he couldn't let go. This wasn't a one night stand--it wasn't that shit. He only hoped that Alisa knew that too--that the bed wouldn't be empty tomorrow. He was close. And she was only getting tighter. Their bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat and their pants were ragged and tinged with bliss. He gripped the sheets beside him with all the strength his body had and felt his eyesight blur. Oh god. She tightened and then began to throb, pulsating around his shaft and he pressed up as deep as he could into the promised land. But that was too much for him. Her orgasm fueled his own and he exploded, feeling streams of hot liquid rise up him and hammer out into her. They stopped moving, exhausted, as wisps of pleasure radiated off of them. Spade's eyes had slipped closed and it felt as if he were still cumming. Alisa continued to twitch and it never ended.

He pulled out when it faded away enough for his mind to unmuddle itself. And he did so slowly because he knew how sensitive it was... He took the condom off, threw it in a trashcan filled with tissues, wiped himself off with one and threw that away too. Then he laid back down and pulled her to him. Her head lay on his chest probably hearing his rapid heart beat. But soon, he sunk off to sleep before he even knew it--before he allowed himself to stop relishing the moment.

* * *

The next morning he woke up to find that Alisa was there. It was his first non-one night stand in ten years.

[EXIT TOPIC]

[Sponsored content]