#sentiment.

In the wake of her expulsion from the Cult and the progressing Greek-centered drama in New Rome, Adriana had elected to take a brief recess from her Legionary duties to assist her grandfather with his non-Senatorial business at home. Home being a loose term for her family's villa because, if she was being honest, this place had never felt much like home. There was no love within its walls, only duty, expectation, and blood. In a way it was nice. Simple. Gaius believed that the lack of love -- not hate, mind you; an absence of feeling -- was best for business. Decisions weren't muddled by matters of the heart, nor were necessary actions that one otherwise might hesitate to execute. It was supposed to make her tougher, but Adriana didn't entirely agree with her grandfather's philosophy. There was strength in love, too, and it could be exceptionally powerful. However, he was right about feelings -- they had a bad habit of complicating things. When Everly, one of the housekeepers, stopped into her office to announce that Jackson Karavadra had arrived with files for Gaius, she groaned into her desk before standing and making her way downstairs. "So I heard you've brought something for Gaius?" The question that served as Adriana's greeting echoed down from the second floor banister over which she was leaning. "Fortunately for you, he's out on business." She shot him a half-hearted smirk, then stepped back and tilted her head as she turned toward the hall. "Might as well come up, then. He'll be back later. There's no point in you making two trips. I'm sure whatever it is you've brought him is nothing I can't handle.”

Ever since the poisoning that had happened on his birthday, Jefferson had been making Jax run the silliest and most mind-numbing tasks as often as he could. A very small part of the punishment he had endured for the story he had made up to cover up the situation from the Karavadra patriarch. The three of them had taken the fall together, telling Jefferson that it had been a prank they had planned, and even though they hadn't done a prank together at a social function in years, the man had finally bought the story. He'd mostly done it to protect Cat. For even though he wasn't all too sure of how much he liked her at the moment, of course he still loved her. Even if she'd made it difficult. Blood doesn't just abandon blood. Still, the hurt and stress of the situation had been weighing on him, along with him having to undergo his father's punishments, in addition to the anxiety of wondering if his father would somehow discover that it was him who had robbed the bank. Not to mention, Adriana having left the Cult. It shouldn't have been concerning him, but it was impossible to deny that it was. He was surprised to see her now, not exactly sure of the last time he'd seen her wandering within her family's villa. Jax looked up at her after her voice came from above, and began to ascend the stairs to get to her while calling back up. "Are you sure about that? You know I've got a lot to offer. I wouldn't blame you for not being able to handle it all," he said suggestively without skipping a beat.

Adriana had been concerned about Jax since the horrific events of his birthday soiree. She never would have said it, but her presence at the hospital shortly after the family's arrival spoke louder than words ever would -- even if she played it off with teasing. He had told her about Cat's involvement in his poisoning and the odd surge of protectiveness Adri felt from the news was yet another reason she had decided to dislocate herself from camp for a few days. It would give her time to think and return more or less to her usual state, not this muddled mess of confusion and stress. "Must everything be about yourself?" Adriana's eyes had rolled at his comment and now, she crafted her reply. "I can assure you, I've handled plenty. I doubt whatever you've brought is anything special." Having slipped back into her office, Adriana came to stand behind her desk, the chair ignored in favor of maintaining what little height she could on the tall man in her audience. "What is it then?" She held a hand out to collect the documents he had brought, the other hand temporarily fixed on her hip. He was being eyed in a stern manner, one that indicated that while their banter was amusing, she wasn't entirely in the mood for it, nor was this the proper interaction for such a thing. Despite her preference for the blood and sweat of the Legion, Adriana too had to occasionally set aside her personality for the sake of family business. "Did Jefferson finally get a chance to assess those budget sheets for the theatre? Gaius is almost amusingly eager to get the renovations started, but I suppose I can't entirely disagree with his enthusiasm. Drama never fails to bring people together, after all." Jax was thrown a smirk.

It had been surprising to wake with Adriana by his hospital bed, but what was more surprising was how the sight of her waiting there had almost been a balm to Jax's emotional state upon waking— though he had initially let slip that Cat had been the one responsible for him landing there. Which was testament in itself to how much his subconscious seemed to trust Adriana. Nevertheless, his tone was cocky as he answered her question without hesitation. "Naturally." But suddenly his mind was wandering to whether she actually would be able to handle him, though a moment later he was prompting himself to focus on the task at hand. The errant thought was alarming to say the least, but he chalked it up to his stressed mind looking to take relief in any way, or anyone. A smirk on his lips and he decided to slip in one last quip along with a shrug. "Not as if I'd ever be desperate enough to let you find out." But then he was handing over the papers his father had sealed before Jax had left. "Jefferson left his notes in there along with the returned sheets." Normally, Jax was called to help with such things, but yet another part of his punishment had been that he was temporarily cut off from assisting with anything of real importance. Even now the sprig of ire that had sprouted when Jefferson had told him such a thing grew an inch or so taller. But her last words reminded him of the talk that had taken up in the Cult after Adriana had been booted from it. They hadn't addressed it yet, but there was a large part of Jax that wished to. So he couldn't help but say, "Your departure from the Cult is proof enough of that. Just the other day I saw Butler and Wade talking about it, and I don't think I've ever seen them in a room without fighting before."

The dance, the fire, the infirmary, the hospital-- all of these moments had only left Adriana progressively more confused. Was it their usual banter acting up? Drinks, exhaustion, pain? Childhood history? Whatever the case, underneath all of the teasing and sarcasm, they shared secrets with one another that they wouldn't dare speak otherwise. It was those dark moments, Adri thought, that kept them together despite all the insults they threw at one another. She regarded Jax's final quip with a roll of her eyes but chose not to address it. If she did, it would likely escalate. "Oh, good." Accepting the sealed package of documents, Adriana carefully opened it and removed the papers from inside, already pouring over the details as she shifted behind her desk. Some light humming sounded from her throat, but it wasn't until Jax spoke up out of the blue that she froze in place and a lower toned, almost cautious response rolled from her lips. "I'm not surprised. They lost an experienced assassin. Now they'll have to shift some ranks." With a huff, she focused on the papers again instead of her guest. "What is it they've been chatting about, exactly? Not that it's their business to assume what happened." And as an afterthought she couldn't contain, she added, "...I'm glad to be out of it."

For a moment Jax's mind was fished out of the gutter as Adriana queried after his comment about talk of her. To be honest, the other members’ talk hadn't lasted long in his presence, for he'd rather sharply asked them whether they had anything better to do than sit around and gossip like old women waiting to die. "Not anything of substance. They didn't talk about it for long after I showed up." It was true. After his snappy comment the two had gone a bit pale, and retreated from his presence whilst attempting to stammer apologies. It had been somewhat foolish of him, as now they wouldn't be likely to talk of Adriana in front of him, and he'd lose the knowledge of what it was that was circulating around the Cult about her. But for once in his notoriously premeditated life, he hadn't thought before he'd spoke. Nevertheless, Jax had been disappointed not to see Adriana amongst their ranks, though he wasn't entirely sure as to why. "But then again, it was most likely about how you decided to abandon the Cult and everyone in it." It was a bit of a jab, one that was meant to veil that he was personally upset she'd left.

It didn't surprise Adriana much that Jax had scared the gossiping cultists off. With the reputation the both of them had, it wasn't hard to imagine that in certain circumstances, their colleagues had known it was wise to step down. "Well, I'm not sure what substance there is to speak of anyhow. Besides the potential for ridiculous speculation, it's a rather straightforward matter." Or so she liked to think. Truthfully, there was nothing straightforward about the Cult and the people within it. Rules were generally an exception, but for all else, deception and clever tricks kept the organization under the city's radar. The majority of its members were left in the dark until missions were ordered and often the purpose of those missions wasn't entirely clear. Adriana had grown sick of it and their intentions. Standing still and playing along had been her safeguard for years, and while she didn't want to admit it, it had made rejecting her test that much easier. Yet the tone of Jax's statement set her blood boiling. She shouldn't have cared because he wasn't technically wrong, but something about that word -- abandon -- had struck her right where it hurt. "Abandon? Please, as if any of those bastards actually gave a damn enough about me to feel abandoned. Inconvenienced though, I'm sure." Then a strange fact dawned on her that if Jax had stated such a theory, perhaps their fellow Cult members weren't the ones who felt abandoned. The daughter of Mars dropped the papers on her desk and crossed her arms over her chest, almost incredulous, leaning back into her stance. With calculating eyes, she engaged her thought. "Why do you care?" Her green-tinted eyes found his and attempted to see through whatever mask he might be putting up. "You must have known what I was going to do, and frankly I don't see why you haven't 'abandoned' them, what with their decision to have your sister poison you and all. If that's not a threat, I don't know what is."

Perhaps Jax had underestimated his passion on the subject at hand. He was no longer making any attempt to refer to the papers Jefferson had made him bring over, and his arms had taken their signature displeased poise as they crossed over his chest. "Sentiment isn't necessary when using the word abandon, Adriana," he bit back to her with an eyeroll. "But you left the people you said you'd help and protect behind. Just because they're not ones that work in the light doesn't mean you can pretend like you didn't leave them. Not to mention you leaving the Cult basically just says you're giving up on New Rome as well." Jax didn't yell. It was something Jefferson classified as uncivilized and messy, and of course Jax had followed his father's example. But as his words continued his tone did become more passionate as he advanced a few more steps towards Adriana. "I care because you can't just decide not to care about the city and its future!" There was nothing Jax loved more than New Rome, and seeing Adriana abandon a society that was meant to better it had him questioning whether he even knew the woman before him-- which was perhaps the most unsettling thought. He'd known Adriana since he was six. How was he to be certain of anything if he couldn't be certain of her? Of course he'd also known her well enough to guess that she wouldn't kill her brother, but he hadn't fully processed the repercussions that it would result in. For some reason, it was as if he'd been functioning under the assumption Adriana would have found a way around the task... or at least tried to. And there was the fact of the poisoning again, and once more he was rolling his eyes. "Why is everyone so hung-up on that? It was a fucking allergic reaction not arsenic. No one wants me dead or out of the way! If the Cult wanted me dead, I'd already be dead! If they wanted to threaten me, they'd be sure I knew it! None of this bullshit poisoning and making me guess!" Perhaps he should have spoken of his mortality with more emotion, but he'd been raised to know that death was inevitable. After all-- they were soldiers. "You know that after years of working with them! I know that!" He could feel his patience being stretched tight like a rubber band, the tension of it threatening to snap.

"As if they need protecting," Adriana snapped across at him. "And if my help was of any significance, they wouldn't have given me a task that they must have known I'd fail. They had the nerve to call themselves my family, but what have they ever done for me besides handing me a knife and telling me to kill?" She wasn't yelling. Yet. But when Jax accused her of giving up on New Rome, her blood boiled into a fever. A deep flame manifested in her eyes as their color shifted instantaneously from green to gold, and flecks of red glowed like embers in the shadows of her gaze, a dangerous testament to her paternal genealogy. When he advanced, his arrival was met with a growl that ripped from her throat, the tone nothing short of vicious. "You pretentious asshole, how dare you accuse me of abandoning our home! What the fuck makes you think I would give up on the one goddamn thing that has mattered to me all my life!" The eight and a half inches between them hadn't been paid a single mind as she put her hands flat against his chest and knocked him backwards, ignorant to the rise in her strength as she drove him toward the wall with an unyielding glare for the ages. "There are more ways to advance this city than pulling strings from the dark like a glorified band of villains! We don't have to purge these streets of a people who could be our allies! The acts of a few don't define the many -- or has your grudge grown so dense that you can't even grasp so much as a thread of logic?" Once his back touched the wall -- a fact she truthfully had yet to register in her blind rage -- her voice dropped to an icy low, a hiss rather than a growl, and for just a moment her eyes flickered from gold to green and back again whilst poison came to possess her words. "I don't care what you think about living or dying. I don't care about what we know. I'm not going to stand by and watch them put the lives of their own at risk just to play them as if they're insignificant little pawns. Maybe I'm 'hung-up' on it because I give a shit whether or not you end up a pile of ashes like the rest of the people they've wasted. If it was Fergus or Callum I bet you'd feel no differently; so don't tell me to trust them or so help me gods, Jackson, it won't be the Cult's threats you have to worry about."

Jax wasn't entirely sure how they had devolved to this state of fighting, but there had always been something lying underneath the pair's sassing quips and smug looks that was of a more volatile nature. And it seemed that the passion creeping in wait had once more come to a head, and here Jax was with a fuming Adriana at his neck, and a solid wall against his back. The most base of his soldier senses was telling him this was not a place he wanted to be. Between a rock and a hard place, while the rock was on fire and liable to explode at any moment. But his temper had flared at Adriana's words and actions, and his own features weren't their usual chips of ice that was his general show or warning sign of anger. For once his anger was hot as he refused to stay against the wall, giving Adriana a light shove to free himself. And then his steps were bringing him unto her once more, a single word punctuating his every move as their feet brought them closer to her desk. "At least I'm in a place to help! Unless you want the Romans to go to civil war on themselves, you know this is how it has to be done! Who cares if some people have to pay for it! It's called the greater good, Adriana!" Her words that could easily be taken for caring about him was like a splash of cold water onto the fire that was his rage. For a moment he was cooled, though somewhat confused by the words. Was this to disarm him? Try and make him more pliable to her words if he thought she cared for him? But in another moment the use of his full name had brought his ire back in full force. It hit too close to home when they were standing in an office, and arguing about how to better serve New Rome. There had been many a time Jefferson had used Jax's full name as a weapon, refusing to call him anything other than it as a show of his power while berating Jackson for having done something less than perfect. "Don't call me that." he hissed, and the single name was the snap he'd needed. Suddenly one of his abilities sprang loose, the one more centered around mischief than anything of real use, and therefore the one he had trained the least-- as well as the one most likely to react to his emotions of anger. The result was the sword that had been lying on Adriana's desk lifting from its place and turning ominously towards her for a moment, the sharp end of it pointing straight towards the daughter of Mars' back, but then it did nothing more than fall to the ground behind her. There had been enough times that the ability had gotten the best of Jax, and though he had little control over it-- he could tell that it's intent this time was to trip the girl before him. Normally a generally harmless act, if she hadn't been standing in the perfect position to crack her skull open as she fell backwards onto the edge of the desk in question. Without a thought, he reached out to catch her before such a thing could happen, his anger still present but a deeper emotion surfacing over it to keep her from meeting such a terrible demise. But he shouldn't have doubted the abilities she'd gained from Invidia based around balance, for as the dull edge of the blade swept under her heel, and Jax swooped forward to catch her-- she'd already caught herself. His momentum had already been spent though, and there was no place to go but forward as his face and lips crashed into hers.

Jax's reciprocated advance only served to greater stoke Adriana's already treacherous fury. He hardly ever allowed his emotions to get as heated as they were now, and in the surprise of that, she didn't challenge his driving steps. However, it did not deter her bark back in the slightest. "Bullshit! The world wasn't forged in black and white! If we actively tried to find an alternative instead of bickering about it, the greater good wouldn't have to be such a mess!" It wasn't a ploy. Adriana did care about Jax, though far from the traditional sense. He was her confidant, as she was his, and having known him since she was four made him a reliable constant in her life, one she trusted would survive along with her, no matter the circumstances. For a brief instant, she felt his rage relaxing, but just as soon as it cooled, it roared back to life with an even greater strength than before. "Don't call me that," he hissed. Her eyes narrowed in defiance and she growled at him once more. "I don't take orders from you." Adriana didn't know what was happening. She felt a sort of tingle in her spine that raised the hair on the back of her neck in warning, and then nothing. She was so fixated on maintaining her visual war with the son of Discordia that she hadn't yet realized the power that had manifested in his anger. Suddenly, a blade swept under her heel out of nowhere and threatened to trip her, but the god of war was not the only deity whose blood flowed in her veins, and with the blessing of her grandmother, Adriana's restoration of her balance was effortless. Jax should have known such a trick wouldn't have had any effect on her. This wasn't the first time he'd attempted to knock her off her feet, so instinctively there was no need for his arm to loop around her waist in the protective manner that it did. She would have questioned the matter further if what happened next hadn't thrown her every thought to the wayside. The contact between them couldn't have lasted more than three seconds. Her eyes had opened wide the instant it happened, and once her wits returned, she pushed them apart with a hand to his shoulder. But her shove didn't free her waist. It didn't stop those strange memories of their dance on the night of the fire and his tease in the infirmary the following morning. The heavy beat of her heart pounded in her ears as the associated feelings began to wash over her once more. She had to pause to take a breath because she hadn't thus far been able to do so. Why did it have to be now? And why him? Her confusion only furthered her frustration. That flame of rage she held in her veins spread, heating far more than just her emotions. In an urge she couldn't control, Adriana's glare dipped to his lips and her tongue repeated its habit, tracing the line of her bottom lip. Whether or not he had intended to place her in this position didn't matter once she surrendered to temptation and curiosity alike. With the hand on his shoulder there to drag him forward and her other finding his neck to yank him down to her level, she restored the contact she had broken only moments ago, albeit far advanced from some stagnant touch.

The contact of their lips had been nothing short of a shock for Jax, though it wasn't an entirely unpleasant one. Of course, he couldn't possibly judge based off the barely-there pseudo-kiss Adriana had shoved her way out of. Perhaps he should have removed his arm from her waist to truly let her be free after the jolting few seconds, but he found himself hesitating-- perhaps stuck between the two options of releasing her or trying his luck for another kiss. But then her tongue moved across her lip in the way that his eye couldn't resist catching, and he knew he was undone. Thankfully, he didn't have to entirely make the decision to succumb for himself as he was yanked back down to Adriana's lips, and he wasted no more time in embracing whatever it was that had overcome the pair. In hindsight, he should have known this was long coming-- but he wasn't thinking of that as the fiery passion that had been pooling in his chest began to travel south, igniting a flame that seemed to burn even fiercer. Though their battle of words had ended, he carried the sharpness of them into his lips as he eagerly responded to Adriana, as if he could continue their challenge into their kiss. And though she wasn't much ludicrously shorter than him, he couldn't resist moving to heft her onto the desk he'd tried to save her from falling against, though he should have known she wasn't in any real danger. It was much easier to kiss her when they were on equal levels, and he wanted to do much more than kiss her. But he hadn't been thinking when he'd reached out to help her, only reacting-- as he was now. If him biting fiercely at the bottom lip she'd been teasing him against with her tongue only moments before, and on countless other occasions, could be considered reacting. He moved to fit himself between her knees after he'd sat her on the desk, his hands trying to coax them apart to make room for him as he continued his assault on her lips, trying to gain access to the tongue she'd mercilessly mocked him with. He seemed eager to explore a canvas he'd never before thought he might get to learn as one of his hands then went to the hem of her shirt, his fingers dipping underneath it to stroke across the bare skin he found there, testing the waters. He pushed her further onto the desk in his eagerness, the clattering of some unknown objects falling to the floor to join those that had been knocked aside when he had initially lifted her.

There had been no guarantee that when Adriana pulled Jax down to her height that he would return the action she initiated, but she had anticipated as much -- and she had been correct to think so. Jax not only returned what she offered, but amplified it with his own vigor and passion that Adriana was powerless not to answer. He had turned their kiss into a battle and that challenge only stoked the flames burning in her blood and core. She hardly noticed being hefted onto the desk or having her knees spread apart to invite him closer. Logic went to the wayside as instinct took hold, enabling her to react to the trivial needs without losing focus on what was far more important, namely absorbing the pleasures of the situation. When he fought for access to her tongue, she initially messed with him, biting back at his lip as he did to hers, taunting -- until his hand dipped under her shirt and the new contact finally coaxed her lips to part. Where her hand had been resting on his neck, it slipped back into his hair, all nails and force as she demanded him to maintain the proximity he had devised. But Adriana was impatient, and not too long into their deepened kiss, she briefly withdrew from the rolling of their tongues to shrug off her jacket and toss it aside before scraping down the hand from his hair to assist her other in tearing his shirt open. The daughter of Mars certainly wasn't lost for strength and she resolutely did not care that a number of the buttons on his shirt were ruined in the process. It seemed only fair considering the various objects he was knocking from her desk. Then he went to push her back further, and while she didn't mind the added room, it was in her nature to resist, rising against his attempt to seize his lips fiercely once more. Her one hand returned to his hair and the second hooked into his chest, clawing down the length of his torso with the intention of leaving marks. Despite their similar desire, a part of her was insistent on keeping a portion of their regular banter alive, and if that meant throwing him some opposition, she would gladly do so.

It was the same dance she and Jax had been exhibiting since they'd met. The push and pull of their relationship. The give and take. That much was obvious as Adriana resisted his efforts. But her true desires were betrayed as she ripped the shirt from him, and he smirked into their kiss. It was a look she'd seen on him on many an occasion, but now instead of simply seeing it paint his lips-- she'd feel it against hers. He murmured against her, "Someone's a bit eager, aren't we?" But the same words could be said for him as he wasted no more time in being tentative, now positive that he and Adriana wanted the same things. In a moment his fingernails were scraping up the skin along her sides with a ferocity that matched the marks she'd left on his chest, and he lifted her own shirt over her head. Then, he moved more forcefully-- placing a hand on her collarbone to lay her down against her desk. Distantly, he knew the last echoes the voice that was telling him he shouldn't be doing this had died. The constant question of whether or not he should back down was shattered as the resounding answer of no went through him. Because now he'd tasted her. And now that he'd tasted her he knew that he wanted her. But he could most certainly stand to taste more. Without hesitation his mouth moved to her neck, his teeth and lips leaving harsh marks that would most certainly ripen to deeply colored bruises. Jax would be lying if he said he hadn't been curious to taste the perfect skin he found there ever since his lips had latched onto it during an undercover mission they'd had in the Cult posing as a couple.

When Adriana felt Jax's smirk against her lips, she knew she never could have gone back to their debate even if she'd wanted to. He was intoxicating-- or maybe that was her own power rebounding on herself. She wasn't sure. Regardless, now that she'd gotten a hint of him, she didn't think she'd ever get enough. It was their contrasting relationship that made this intimate battle of theirs all the more thrilling, and enticing. She reflected that smirk he sported and a breathless two words slipped from her tongue, "Shut up." He had no right to call her out when it was obvious the desire was mutual. The ferocity he employed was fantastic. She raised her arms to assist with the removal of her shirt, but it was in that moment of vulnerability when she had been busied with shaking out her hair that Jax made another bold move, pushing her down onto the desk. He assaulted her neck like she had his lips after their initial contact. The suddenness of it brought about a quiet gasp. For a while she wanted to enjoy the moment, so she set aside their differences to grant permission to the quiet noises and light squirming that came of it. Subconsciously, her head tilted to give him greater access, then she remembered their rivalry, and not long into the new angle she offered, her hand in his hair tightened, yanking his head not towards her, but away. "And I thought I was the eager one," a low chuckle rumbled from her chest, devious, and pressed against his ear, which received a nip on the lobe as she shifted back. That tease was perfectly coupled with the dragging bite on his bottom lip that came next-- a trick that drew blood enough to tempt her taste and flavor a kiss. This time, her tongue would run along his lip rather than her own. The grip on his hair eventually loosened, but that strength was transferred rather than lost, nails digging into the back of his neck and trailing along the scars of his torso between them. She would have liked to have gotten her teeth and tongue on those scars as well, but his force on her collarbone was stronger than anticipated, and in this position, there wasn't much she could do to overcome him without crashing onto the floor where all of her desk items lied. So for now, she was content with seizing his lips and allowing him to explore, because no matter what he did, she was confident that he wouldn't disappoint-- as long as his many prideful claims of his abilities were true.