*GIRL / GUN.

“ yeah.  thought you’d know that by now.  i’d have tector do it if i thought you kept any cash on you. ”    didn’t stow it away in some account several moons out like the fund driven corporate monkey she’d been shacked up with.  a cruel enough thought to’ve deserved the bite his tongue was given.  the swallow that sent it back to roll over itself.  fall away in shreds too bogged down to bother reassembling their structure, later.  fall away and make room for the furl of his brows —— a grin that’d be recognized for what it was.  mockery.

“ ‘sides, me and fi have some unfinished business. ”    where the scar on his hand started and the lack of one on hers ended.  a grudge to steal the focus off of a suited situation that left sasha with puffy eyes and the drooping expression to match them.  fixed her sullen and unusual.  abandoned august to chew on aggression that’d boil over, later, if left unchecked.  when fists found a fitting solution for the tension in his shoulders in the unsuspecting mug of a late payday or a running mouth.  anything besides the here and now.

what was reserved for  that  was the tip of a bottle, topping off what’d skated low.  it was his weight leant into forearms settling atop the counter in a stance she’d recognize sooner than anyone else.  leisure in spite of itself.

“ i don’t give a shit what you wear, ”    if she wore anything at all.  wouldn’t stop the stripping of that dress if it came to that.  wouldn’t dissuade his stare from roaming if she didn’t.    “ still the prettiest damn thing that’s ever walked into this bar.  even  if  those heels look real fuckin’ tacky on ya.  kinda glad you didn’t show up earlier.  probably would’ve had to kick a couple’a guys out of here. ”

‘    she shot you  ,    you shot felix.    close enough.    ’          a bullet she once would have thanked him for  ,    after the death rally and before coming to terms with the   truth   she would’ve sworn up and down that the old bastard deserved it.    the fire’s out now     ----     hard to stay pissed when every breath she’s taken since defeating the traveler is one she owes to him  ,    when her share of the corporate cash had bought her much in the way of financial freedom     (    and some kick-ass guns to boot    )          ‘    business concluded.    which is good for you because she’s   busy.    ’

so busy that sometimes sasha doesn’t hear from her for   weeks  ,    doesn’t always know exactly where to find her.    worries that she’s   hurt  ,    maimed  ,    dead    somewhere out in the vast wastelands  ,    rotting away in some vault  ,    a monster gnawing on her bones.    chases the thought away with the newly poured booze  ,    wayward digits coming to rub at the corner of her eye. 

there’s an underlying fatigue that makes itself known in the bags beneath her eyes  ,    one that signals that the relationship problems have been ongoing  ,    that they didn’t merely rise up like a tidal wave on this particular night and unleash devastation down upon them.    bags that aren’t going anywhere any time soon  ,    not when paranoia conjures such effective nightmares that sometimes they play when she’s awake  ,    splashed on the backs of eyelids  ,    burned onto her retinas. 

she may as well have been shouting at the wall.  screaming for their big, great overlord to sweep in and intervene.  hyperion’s  ‘ best ’  with their shitty, overpriced guns.  their clunky mech and their  ( if recent company assured of nothing else )  dim-witted employees — somewhere out ahead, he could hear them, still.  running off at the mouth like they had a say in this.  like she did.  sasha ought have put the red flag between them and waved it with the same vigor that went into his intentional jostle.  a shake that might not shut her up — hadn’t ever seen anything strong enough to do  that — but it made the dig from a driven elbow sting less.

“ so i’m a  THUG  now, huh ? ”    something something, shoes fitting.  appropriate or not, her voice made it bitter.  judgement casting a wide, smothering net over months spent working her opinion of him into something… decent.  until eye contact didn’t feel like a threat.  a battle waiting for him to catch up with it.  find her to be as guilty as everyone else.  one more body for a pile, easily tossed.    “ glad to see we’re finally being honest with each other. ”

his  honesty  still tasted like her.  no saccharine sweet, but something close enough to it that the arm across her middle remained as it was.  loose enough she could have squirmed free, if she knew the way.  if she’d not given up and chose the drive of a knee caught up in another bend as august took the stairs in ginger descent.    “ took you long enough. ”

the rest of a party, idled at the towering mouth of a spread-wide docking bay door, hadn’t paid mind to them yet.  stood bickering amongst themselves in a way to promise this would end much as sasha’d said it would.  crumbling in on itself.  a gunfight he’d been ready for since he was old enough to hold one.  whether or not his preference had shifted, found it prefered the heft of her weight instead…  it was something to think about later.  when they’d been sent on their way and he was attached to monitors, overseeing progress.  enjoying the fit of a chosen dress he had no right to like.  the way artificial light caught all the finer details of her eyes and—    “ you’re in the get-up cause i said so…  what ?  suddenly have a taste for guys in suits, sash ? ”

she hadn’t meant it.   hadn’t intentionally thrown it out like a dig meant to get under his skin.    thugs     ----     an umbrella term for someone acting like him  ,    someone making demands  ,    making   threats   and resorting to manhandling when the first two failed.    an attempt to get into the mindset of the persona she’s adopting  ;    a handsome jack worshiping  ,    self-righteous pandora-hating hyperion employee with absolutely no fashion sense.    the mouth that wouldn’t stop running  ,    not when it’s fueled with her obvious annoyance and a healthy dose of   fear. 

quickly decides that she doesn’t care  ,    that she’s   pleased   by the prospect of it bothering him.    she hadn’t asked for this.    not the stab wound that draws her attention with it’s dull thudding  ,    not the suicide mission vallory’d thrust upon them  ,    not august and his goons tagging along to watch them die and certainly not   this     ----    hefted over his shoulder against her will  ,    every step and intentional jostle increasing the intensity of her fury.          ‘    act like a thug and that’s what I’ll call you.    ’          spitting venom like an alpha skag  ,    attempting to land a pointy-toed kick. 

‘    don’t get used to it.    honesty’s rare between thugs and thieves.    ’          uses it again just for good measure  ,    the satisfying feel of it on her tongue.     followed up by a derisive snort and a shake of her head that escapes his notice.          ‘    no.    ’          hell no.   wouldn’t be surprised if she suffered permanent eye damage after this  ,    being forced to bear witness to the mother load of horrible dressers  ,    all that   yellow.    could’ve gotten a laugh out of it  ,    she thinks.    august in uncomfortable hyperion garb  ,    forced to   suffer   just.    like.    her. 

   *   @griftersister​ ,     have a drink with me     (   ♡.   )

…and stop staring at the same number that hadn’t moved in the past three days.  she didn’t say it, but it was there.  cradled in a tone that sounded as tired as his joints felt, despite rhys’ unwillingness to budge.  his focus temporarily unblinking up until the cut of her voice gave it reason to.  cast hands high to grind the heels of his palms into what he’d hoped were some kind of designer in the bags beneath his eyes.  anything other than the haggard he knew was there.  grown broader.  till it were a beast all its own and only in groaning out his exhaustion could he find the relief to finally look at her.

sasha’d been there for the past hour.  hair loosed from the band that never  really  stood a chance of controlling it.  something he’d learned to relate to, over the years.  watching from a distance as things changed, all just so it could stay in a realm of  same.  her teasing eyes and a grin that promised more to come if he kept at it.  delving into uncouth tactics.  seeing if he could keep his tie situated if she touched here…  there.

so maybe…  some  things had changed.

“ come on sash, i have.. things  to do. ”    and there’d be things after that.  things in the morning.  things three days, three months, three more years from now.  until promethea crashed into a sun or was blasted out of the sky, the work would never end.  and, maybe, he’d admit, that was his problem.  hiding behind computer screens in the hopes that.. they’d last a little longer without him finding new and innovative ways to ruin everything.

“ one drink. ”    already one more than there should be, but he’d never learned to say no and sound genuine about it.    “ but  I  get to pick what it is.  no offense, but whatever that …that  stuff  was that you gave me  LAST TIME ?  no human should be drinking that.  i felt years of my life peeling away. ”    as well as his breakfast.  that frogurt he’d liked so much.  the base layers of his intestinal wall…    “ and there’s only ooone thing you can drink while on the job that’s worth it.  take a guess. ”

things to do.    she’s heard it all before.    he’s a broken record  ,    spitting out the same tired lines  ,    excuses    no matter what she’d previously suggested.    a workaholic in every sense of the word  ,    willing to put    EVERYTHING   on the back-burner in favor of   this     ----     staring at screens  ,    watching numbers like a rakk tracking it’s dinner  ,    hunched over a desk so long it’s a wonder he can still straighten his spine at all.    a concept she can’t quite wrap her head around  ,    can’t recall a time   she’d   ever actually worked this hard even back when her   life   depended on it.    there had always been time for breaks  ,    to   sleep  ,    have a little fun  ...    of course it helped that bars were great places for a con artist to   ‘ work ‘  ,    booze a much needed accessory to avoid suspicion. 

and he’s ignoring all of the above.    the bags beneath his eyes don’t escape her notice  ,    not by a long shot.    anyone else would likely have lead with that  ,    that he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and prodded him to go lay down for awhile.    she’s got a different approach  ,    knows full well that starting small is the key.    get him to agree to   something   and maybe  ,    just maybe   make room for more gentle demands down the line. 

dramatic sigh follows his stipulations  ,    breath fanning against his neck as she wraps arms around his shoulders  ,    pressing her advantage.          ‘    oh so it’s my fault you’re a lightweight  ??    ’          she teases  ,    words murmured against the shell of his ear.           ‘    here’s a crazy idea :    you   could   stop working.    and then we could drink whatever we want.    ’

sasha didn’t look like  sasha  with her eyes like that.  weepy in a way he’d not known her capable of.  had even made the joke, once or twice, that everything behind that rib cage was cold, hard, and  dead.  hadn’t sprung to life  for him,  that was for sure.  no warmer than the draft from a busted window nearby.  the aftermath of a brawl she’d missed by a hair.  what’d put the discoloration in a sprawl atop his knuckles..  a speckling of bloodshed near the laces of his boots.  as much as things were determined to change, sooner, still, they stayed the same.  right down to the roll in his chest once that laughter, hollow as it was, hit.

“ i take you out back and shoot you, who’s gonna cover your tab ? ”    the one he’d brought up in every breath, despite the wherewithal that whispered he’d not be taking her money.  not with arms crossed and his lean grown generous, back against a counter that’d not yet been wiped down.  still stood sticky with the residue of a tossed drink.  what’d set that shoot out into motion and kept tector busy, still.  tossing the lot to be burned.    “ doubt fiona will pick up if i call her. ”    if anyone’d  found  her, yet.  one more thing to broker an air of  ‘ other ’  that couldn’t  quite  make its way toward sympathetic.

“ i don’t care if you stay, ”    a correction that he didn’t  mind  was kept tucked up under a tongue turned heavy.  swallowed when eyes chose anything other that her, slouched and miserable, to pick at instead.    “ you go walkin’ around here, lookin’ like  THAT..  your liable to get mugged in the street. ”    out of place.  not a thought he’d have imagined applying to her of all people, but…  pandora, apparently, didn’t stick as well as everyone said it did.    “ you look like some corporate shmuck’s trophy wife…  no offense. ”

‘    digging around in my pockets and rifling through my bag too much work for you  ??    ’          there’s a raise of her brow as she leans  ,    arms resting against the wood of the bar.         ‘    that how you normally get the money people owe you after you kill ‘em  ??    call the next of kin and shake them down  ??    ’          not that she’s really interested in the process  ,    just something to keep her mind from wandering back towards rhys  ,    towards   jack.          ‘    doesn’t seem super effective  ,    that’s all I’m saying.    ’

no offense  ,    yet the comparison hits like a slap to the face.    not far off the mark     ----     there’s no ring  ,    never   was   a ring     ----    but maybe that’s all it was  ,    all   she   was.    a trophy on his wall  ,    a piece of pandora he’d claimed as his own if only as a show of good faith  ,    a publicity stunt.    after all  ,    hadn’t jack once had a pandoran wife  ??     still following in footsteps that should have long ago been abandoned.     well  ,    she’s out.    done.    gone.    he can walk that monstrous path alone.