song_tra_bong | (no subject)

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Mary Anne is pretty sure she's found the right world. That knowledge isn't as comforting as she'd thought it would be.

The trail leads her to a hotel, where she almost drops the ball. The description of the man sounds like Ramon, but the presence of two kids throw her. She almost lets it go.

Almost.

But then she figures the guy could be mistaken, or maybe it's part of Ramon's cover, or maybe...

She follows the lead.

Ramon (she's assuming it's Ramon) did a good job of covering his tracks. But there are still things to point the way: someone cleaned the cabin, stocked it with food. Even false names on rental paperwork are names, and they're names she's seen before.

(Spain, France, Switzerland)

She doesn't think she's assuming any more.

She rents a motorcycle, an offroad number with chunky tires and an engine that growls like a bear. She rides it most of the way up the mountain, before parking it and hiding it off the side of the road. She continues the rest of the distance on foot.

There's a gun in the small of her back, money and ammo in the bag at her hip; knives in all the usual places. She thinks she's right, but it's important to be prepared.

She steps up onto the porch, careful not to let the boards creak, then knocks on the door.

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He looks at her intently, then shakes his head.

'I don't get it. But I'm glad you came today.'
Don't think I'll ever understand how but you always show up at the right times.
He lights a cigarette and stands.
Do you know that you'll get hurt a lot worse than I will, if you keep doing this?
'Tequila? Or something else? I've got pretty much everything.'

"Me too."
I know it and I hate it and it's not enough to turn me away
She smiles.
not yet
"Tequila works for me. Can always change it up later if we want."

'Yeah.'

He had planned to get properly drunk tonight but now he doesn't know if that's such a good idea. So now there's hesitation and he pours himself a large brandy instead, picking up a bottle for her.

'Here you go.'

A sofa in front of the fire is located and sprawled on. He isn't sure how to keep the conversation light now or even if that's necessary. This is weird for him, completely weird.

Mary Anne cracks the top and takes a looong drink.

There's a reason she doesn't talk about Davis much.

She hefts the bottle in a toast. "To...never having that conversation again?"

He laughs and raises his glass.

'I'll drink to that. Hard for you to talk about...and I'll never have to properly try and work you out again.'

Bonus! He's not making light of it though; that would be cruel. He stares at the fire instead.

'You'd better choose a safe area of conversation then. I'm likely to say things that'll make you wish you never came.'

Which naturally just makes her want to ask what those things are. She takes another drink to quiet the impulse.

(What's safe? Is there anything safe?)

"Um...shit, I don't know. Since when have I been good at safe?" She's careful to keep her tone light and joking.

'Never.'

He laughs quietly.

'Why do you think I like you so much?'

She makes a helpless gesture with the tequila bottle.

"Just full of likable qualities, what can I say."

Her chest gets a pointed glance and he grins.

'Yeah, I've noticed once or twice.'

She smirks.

"I still have that bikini, you know."

'What, with you?'

If only. Though it does give him a nice couple of moments thinking what that would be like.

'It suited you. Not that I really paid attention,' he adds airily and, quite obviously, untruthfully.

"Sadly no. Needed the room for cash and ammunition."

She makes a dismissive noise. "Of course not. You were just checking to be sure I held up my end of the forfeit."

He's grinning widely as he raises his glass to his lips.

'From what I saw,' he says, leering over the rim at her, 'there was nothing wrong with the way you held your end.'

She chokes with laughter on a mouthful of tequila.

"That was a terrible joke and I should have seen it coming, but thanks for the compliment."

He smirks and (you thought I was joking?) tips his glass to her.

'You're welcome. In my opinion, you should wear that thing more often.'
Or nothing at all.
And not that he wants to change the subject - this just brought something back to mind - he asks,

'You been back to Russia since we were there?'

(I know you aren't joking)
and that's the problem
She nods.
and I have to keep reminding myself that it's a problem
"Swung through briefly. Remember those guys we impressed? Did a little work for them to get some cash and some contacts when I started out."

'What're they like? Didn't try to screw you over for being foreign?'
Doesn't have to be a problem anymore.
Some random chick showed up to do work for him, he'd definitely test her ability to stand up for herself. If she couldn't, she'd be useless anyway.
I think.
'They looked sleazy to me.'
Depends how careless you want to be with your emotions. Never any promises from me.

"They were assholes at first," she admits, taking a drink.

"But mostly to be sure I was the real deal.

One of 'em liked to play grab-ass; I broke all his fingers."

He nods approval, both at the men being assholes and her method of dealing with them. Then he puts his glass odown on the floor.

'I have to go clean up before I drink any more.'

And he wants to have a word with himself.

'Won't be long, help yourself to anything you want.'

"Take your time."

She leans back on the couch, stretching her legs out while she nurses the tequila.

'Don't get too drunk,' he throws at her as he walks to the stairs.

In his room, he sits on the end of his bed for a good few minutes, head in his hands while he thinks. Her showing up here is...not as complicated as he thought it would be at first. And this is troubles him, mainly because a) if he goes through with what he wants to do then it'll probably be a lot more complicated in the morning and b) whatever happened to not wanting anyone else?
Never taking this ring off
There are no answers while he sits still. He never gets much worked out when he's not moving. In the shower, it becomes a little clearer
He may never come back
and mainly he's just wondering whether or not he's being a major fucking jerk. But he's never worried too much about that before, has he? She's a big girl. Either way, there is alcohol and more drugs and does it really matter in the end anyway?
Going fucking crazy
Ten minutes after leaving, he's back, this time wearing jeans that are much cleaner and another white T-shirt. He appears relaxed - the downer he took is starting to kick in - and smies at her as he sprawls back on the sofa with a beer.

'Need a top up?'

She laughs.

"Honey, you left me with the bottle."

Granted she's put a dent in it, but she's got a higher tolerance running for her.

"Don't think 'm gonna need a top up for a while."

He points at the other end of the sofa he's half-lying on.

'Then why don't you come sit over here and share it with me? No hogging the tequila in this house.'

"Since you asked so nicely..."

She abandons her couch for his, holding out the bottle after she sits down. "For you."

'Thanks.'

He watches her as he takes it, watches her as he pours it, watches her as he starts to drink it. Not in a creepy way, just...watching.